Found
by PinkAphid
Summary: Draco Malfoy approached the brothel looking for information. What- or rather, who- he found was someone completely unexpected. They strike a bargain: information in return for a home. But as the stakes get higher, how much are they willing to risk? DMHG
1. Chapter 1

_Prostitute!Hermione just had to be done, once I'd had the idea. I want to say right now that I cannot claim to know anything about or sympathise with the plight of prostitutes, and I'm sorry if it seems I'm undermining or trivialising what they go through, but this is just a fanfic and there's other stuff as bad and plenty more worse on FFN than what you'll find here, so this isn't to be taken too seriously. But this is my first try at a DMHG fic, and I fully intend to finish it, unlike my other longer fics (I don't have a very good track record with finishing things, but I'm serious about this one.) I've written 7 chapters already, but will be posting them quite far apart (one every week/two weeks, depending on what chance I get to write) to give myself a chance to write more. Please read and review, I'd love your opinions! And fyi, my A/Ns won't always be this longwinded. This is just a special hello-and-welcome-to-my-new-fic note._

_RATED M FOR MATURE THEMES, and to cover myself if I slip in some language. Possible lemons later, I'll warn you beforehand, perhaps ;)_

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**DISCLAIMER**: J.K. Rowling owns any of the characters you recognise.

'I'm afraid we need to take you wand, sir.' The young woman - barely more than a girl - standing behind the counter looked expectantly at the young man before her.

'He knows the procedure, Giselle.' Her boss stepped out of the shadows in a rustle of heavy silk.

'I know the procedure, Giselle.' The young man winked conspiratorially at her, and she giggled seductively.

'This way, if you please,' interrupted the older woman, and the young man laid his wand quietly on the countertop. She led him down a darkened and dusty corridor, where chinks of light showed through the gaps between the ill-fitting doors and their frames. Noises – giggles and moans – escaped from the rooms behind the doors, but both figures ignored them.

'It has been a while since we have seen you here, Mr Malfoy,' the woman said, breaking the silence.

'Let us just say that my… pursuits have changed of late, Madame Moreau,' Draco Malfoy replied carefully. Madame Moreau said nothing. The activities of her patrons were something she never questioned.

They stopped in front of the last door in the corridor, which Draco did not recognise. 'I know that you requested Danielle, but she has been unavoidably detained,' said Madame Moreau delicately. 'Instead, I hope you will be satisfied with Georgette.'

Fear flicked through Draco's eyes, but in the half-light Madame Moreau did not notice. 'I specifically asked for Danielle,' he said, hurriedly regaining his composure. 'It has to be her.'

Madame Moreau's face hardened. 'I cannot accept such attachment at this establishment Mr Malfoy, company – and personal – policy,' she said sharply. 'No, that's not it,' rushed Draco, 'you don't understand. I'll- I have to cancel the appointment.'

'I cannot allow that at such short notice, Mr Malfoy. Company policy. Georgette is waiting for you.' Madame Moreau opened the door impatiently, and Draco had no choice but to enter.

Draco closed the door quietly behind him, and looked around the room. Scarves and silks were draped across the walls and ceilings, and the red shades on the few lamps cast a dim and suffocating glow. The floorboards were uneven, the wallpaper peeling, the window blacked out by heavy shutters. But the most noticeable thing was the room's size – tiny, smaller than Draco's en-suite bathroom at home, big enough only for a rickety table and a large metal bed frame, on top of which sat a thin, lumpy-looking mattress, on top of which sat a girl.

She had her back to him, but nevertheless he could see that she was barely dressed at all. The straps of a black lacy bra wound around her shoulders, and the waistband of a many-layered white petticoat sat on her hips. She did not say anything, although she turned her head slightly to acknowledge his presence. Her curly blonde hair fell in matted ringlets over her shoulders, but the shade was too bright, too uniform, to be natural. Her roots betrayed her to be a brunette, the light glinting off strands of auburn mixed in with the nut-brown.

Draco coughed slightly. Georgette stood up and turned round slowly, coiling a strand of hair around her finger in what Draco supposed was a seductive manner, although it did not suit her and the overall effect was one of girlish nervousness.

'How can I service you, sir?' she asked in a whisper, looking at the floor.

'I want nothing from you,' Draco said, almost harshly. He was getting irritated. 'When will Danielle be back?'

'I don't know sir,' she flinched, still looking at the floor.

'Right,' sighed Draco, as he headed towards the door. He was stopped by a pull on his sleeve, and he turned round, surprised.

'Please, I will do anything Danielle will do, and more,' she said, desperately. 'Don't dismiss me sir, I've hardly had a customer all week and it's Saturday already.' She was looking at her hand on his sleeve, but Draco couldn't take his eyes off her tear-stained face.

'How dare you address me in such a manner!' he hissed, and tore his arm out of her grasp. The girl collapsed to the floor, cowering.

'You can hit me, sir, if you like. But Madame Moreau throws us out if we don't get three customers a week, and I only need one more, please,' she rambled, her head hanging and her hair trailing on the floor.

'Get up,' spat Draco. Georgette did so, slowly, flinching when Draco took her chin gently to tilt her face up to his. 'I thought so,' he whispered.

The girl gasped as her eyes roamed over his all-too-familiar face. 'Why are you here?' she asked, incredulously.

Draco smirked, and tightened his grip on her chin. 'I think the same should be asked of you, Hermione Granger.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! This story has had such a great response, thank you so much! I might've updated earlier only I've been in France. It was wonderful. But I didn't check my email at all until I got back, by which time I had 58 new messages! And none of them were junk! :) Most of them were lovely lovely comments from all of you, and I'm glad you're enjoying it! This chapter is longer, lots of conversation, so I hope you enjoy this too.  
**

**DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, I just manipulate them.**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Hermione sank down onto the bed. Draco looked away and passed her a thin blanket, which she draped absently around her shoulders – she seemed to be unaware of her half-naked state.

'Will I be getting an answer any time soon?' Draco prompted, after she had sat in silence for several minutes staring wide-eyed at a mouse hole on the opposite wall.

'Huh?' she looked up vacantly, and shook her head a little, as if trying to wake herself. 'I'm sorry. I'm just… so shocked… I never thought that anyone who could ever recognise me would ever come here. I should have realised this sort of place is probably a common hangout of yours,' she added bitterly.

Draco's lips twitched in amusement. So she was still the same old Granger. 'How did you end up working in a brothel?' he asked, dispensing with niceties.

Hermione sighed, her shoulders hunching up. 'I guess I may as well tell you. It's not like I'll ever be getting out of here,' she grunted. Draco said nothing. She took a deep breath. 'After the battle, the general opinion was that I was a hero. Journeying with Harry, fighting so hard, saving you, even though you were the enemy…' Hermione's tone was bitter and sarcastic. Draco stared resolutely at the floor, his eyes hard. 'I couldn't take it. I mean, it was nice, it was complimentary, but it was so… tiresome. I needed to get out once in a while, so I started going out to Muggle places sometimes, just for relief.' Hermione paused. She had come to terms with her past, but that did not mean she was ready to vent it all again, to a near stranger, to _Draco Malfoy_ of all people. She looked up at the ceiling, blinking back tears. 'Anyway, to cut a long story short, I ended up in need of work, and I couldn't get a job in the Muggle world and without any further qualifications there weren't really any places that would take me except here.'

_Seems you're cutting a lot short_, thought Draco, but he stopped himself. Instead: 'Surely anywhere in the Wizarding _world_ would have been gagging for the brains behind Harry Potter and the Dark Lord's defeat in their workforce,' he said, only slightly sarcastically.

Hermione let out a burst of humourless laughter. 'You think I'm going to live off Harry's fame all my life? I'm a person in my own right. I don't want a job just because I worked with him for all those years. They never recognised me here, I'm just Sally Withershins from Barking.'

'I thought you were Georgette?'

'Well men can hardly cry out something as mundane as 'Sally' when they're in the throes of passion, can they?' It was Hermione's turn to be sarcastic. 'We all have fake names. Danielle's real name is Tilly Caster.'

'I know,' replied Draco, without thinking.

'You shouldn't get too close to her,' warned Hermione. 'If she falls in love with you, she'll be out of here in an instant.'

Within a second, Draco had made up his mind. 'I'm going to tell you something,' he said. 'You have to promise to listen to me all the way through, because I want to help you.'

'I don't need you help!' Hermione retorted instantly.

'I knew that's what you'd say,' said Draco calmly, 'but it's for rather selfish reasons. You see, I want to help you because I need you to help me.' Hermione looked at him levelly. 'I can't say anything now, I wouldn't trust that Madame Moreau as far as the end of this street, even if she is on our side. But—'

'Wait,' Hermione cut him off. '_Our_ side? Seems a lot has changed since I've been here. Took you long enough to convert,' she said caustically.

'Yeah, well, I did, and now I'm an Auror, even if it does mean having to answer to bloody Potter,' Draco sneered.

'Don't talk about him like that,' snapped Hermione.

Malfoy ignored her and continued. 'Can we get you out of here? When do you have free time?'

'Not bloody likely, and never,' she answered.

'Do you never leave this house? What about when you go home?' he asked incredulously.

Hermione was silent for a moment. 'Malfoy, why do you think girls like me come here?'

Draco looked away, embarrassed. 'Do you have a wand?' he asked quietly.

'When we come here, we have to have an interview with Madame Moreau. She slips Veritaserum into the tea, and if you have a wand she finds it and takes it away. She's too poor a witch to set up anti-apparition spells or wards, so she can't risk us having wands. That's partly why all clients have to hand theirs in at the desk,' she explained.

'So you don't have one?' Draco asked.

'Even if I am a…' Hermione paused slightly, embarrassed. 'Even if I am here, I'm still as clever as I always was. I thought she might try something like that, so I… I broke my wand. When she asked if I had a wand I said it broke, so it was useless, and she accepted that. She's dumber than she looks, she likes everyone to think she's all sly and conniving but she's hopeless really. I had the pieces hidden in my robes, and I moved them there as soon as possible,' she finished, pointing to a floorboard which Draco supposed must be loose. 'Could you get it out?'

In answer, Draco headed over to where she was pointing and indeed saw one end of the board poking up slightly, revealing a hiding place beneath. He levered it up, breaking a nail in the process (but, being a manly man, he said nothing) and pulled out a thin package wrapped in a red scarf. Hermione took it gently, and unwrapped her wand.

'I tried to fix it together again, but my wandless magic isn't as good as it used to be…' Draco bit back a retort. 'If your wand is at reception though, it shouldn't be too hard to _accio_ it. Giselle's even more stupid than Madame.'

'Ok, I'll stay here and pretend I'm in a sex coma,' said Draco. 'You go downstairs and get my wand, then we can Apparate out of this dump.'

'It's a – well, ridiculously simple, but anyway – plan,' agreed Hermione, as she pulled down the leg of one stocking. Messing up her hair, she left the room quietly.

It was an agonisingly slow wait for Draco, as he lay on the well-used bed, trying not to think about Granger and what she had done here. Ten minutes later by his watch she crept in again, smiling properly for the first time since he had entered her room. Had he known that she was smiling properly for the first time in months he may have felt a bit more compassionate, as it was, he was just eager to get at his wand. 'Here, I'll fix yours first, then grab my arm and I'll take you to my apartment,' he said.

Hermione nodded giddily. The prospect of her final escape was getting to her head. She had wanted to leave this place ever since she got here. She hated her former self, how naïve she was for thinking that this would be an adequate alternative to losing her dignity in a job given to her only for the sake of who she knew, but losing her dignity night after night to men she had never laid eyes on before, stinking of too much firewhisky and another prostitute's cheap perfume, was so much worse. Ironically, even that was nothing compared to the crushing loss her pride suffered at the knowledge that her livelihood depended on her ability to momentarily please people she would have hurried past on the street with disgust, but also at the knowledge that not even arrogant philanders and perverted old drunks wanted her anymore. Another week like this and she'd be back on the street. Once again the thought of all her former friends and her family flitted across her mind, friends she had had to desert because of her actions, who would never have forgiven her. She couldn't go back to them; she could not bear the thought of lying to them, even less the thought of telling them the truth. She loved them and missed them desperately, and she was sure they missed her – how could they not, when they still thought she was the same old loving, generous, kind Hermione? Better that they think her vanished and uphold a good memory of her, keep the happy memories they had made together, than that they know her truth.

'Hermione?' Draco looked at her strangely, she had been staring wildly at her fixed wand. 'You can take it, you know.'

Hermione shook her head, as if waking up. Draco was starting to notice this little habit of hers, it was rather endearing. It was his turn to shake himself awake. Granger, endearing? She was in trouble, that was all. He would do the same for any girl in her situation.

Hermione was pulling on a heavy grey cardigan, which she had fished out from under the bed, and slipped her feet into worn-looking pumps.

'Ready?' Draco held out his arm.

Hermione nodded, and took his arm tightly in both hands.

The room they Apparated into was spacious and… _clean_, was what first occurred to Hermione. Light curtains framed a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the Thames. Shining parquet floors stretched from wall to wall, punctuated with a black leather couch and two matching armchairs. On one wall hung a large mirror, simply framed, and bookcases lined the opposite wall. Three doors opened off the living room, one was unmistakeably a front door, the second was open and Hermione glimpsed a gleaming kitchen. The third was shut, but must have led to Malfoy's bedroom. Hermione stood still for many minutes, not letting go of Malfoy's arm, just taking it all in. Draco was silent.

'It's been so long since I've been in a room like this,' she smiled, looking genuinely happy. She walked over to the window, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. 'You can see all of London!' she breathed. And indeed, London stretched out before her, lights sparkling in the deep night as far as she could see.

Draco coughed hesitantly. 'Would you like something to eat?'

Hermione turned abruptly, eyes shining. She sniffed quietly.

He almost ran to her side. 'Are you crying?'

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and smiled. 'A little. It's just…' she looked at the ceiling, blinking back tears again. 'No one has been this kind to me for…' She broke off.

Draco stood close beside her, silently. They both stayed there, staring out over London. Draco heard Hermione take a deep breath.

'I may as well come straight to the point,' she started. Draco turned to face her. 'I'm not prepared to trust you completely yet. And I cannot go back to my old life with Harry and Ron and Ginny and my parents. But you got me out of there, without my asking, and if there's any favour I can do for you, well, fair's fair.'

Malfoy nodded. 'I told you before I 'got you out' that I was only helping you because I need your help. That was only partly true. I said it because I knew it was the only way you would let me help you, but to be honest I'm not entirely sure how you can help me, yet.' Hermione looked confused, and Draco sensed she was getting angry. He hurriedly took her hand and led her to the kitchen. 'I'll tell you everything when I've made dinner. I can only do pasta I'm afraid, but there's plenty of it. When was the last time you ate?'

'Merlin's beard Malfoy, we weren't starved,' Hermione replied huffily, but she did not meet his eyes_._ She allowed herself to be led into the kitchen and sat down at the table, while Malfoy put on a pot of water to boil. She watched him quietly as he busied about, clanking pots and pans, setting the table for two, getting out wine glasses and frying onions. In ten minutes, Hermione was presented with a big steaming pile of pasta, smothered in tomato sauce and bacon.

'Eat as much as you want,' he said, pouring a glass of red wine for each of them. 'And I'll tell you why… why I said that.' Hermione nodded, slurping up her spaghetti. Draco sighed. 'The reason I came to Madam Moreau's today was specifically for Danielle – for Matilda Caster. I'm an Auror now, like I told you, and she's wanted for questioning about Death Eater activity.'

Hermione looked up sharply. 'Tilly's not a Death Eater.'

'No, we know that. But she has been the… preferred choice…' Draco was putting his words delicately, 'of many Death Eaters for some time now. Madame Moreau's has been well frequented for a number of years by Death Eaters. Tilly may have been told things, or heard things she shouldn't have. We want to find her, and see if there is any information she can give us. Then of course, the Ministry will provide her with safe accommodation, we'll protect her as long as she needs it. When I saw that it was you who had taken over from her, I suddenly had an idea. I admit that I haven't yet thought it through, and it was completely on impulse, but if I got you out of there you would perhaps be able to help me find her, seeing as you know her. Are you willing?'

Hermione had listened attentively throughout his speech, and now put down her fork. She had tomato sauce splattered around her mouth, and it looked comical on her serious features. 'I appreciate your honesty,' she said. 'Really. A lot of men wouldn't admit so readily to a plan to use me.' Draco faltered. This wasn't the answer he wanted. Hermione continued. 'But you have helped me, and I want to help you now. I think…' her gaze moved from his face, slipping into the distance. 'I know I can be useful. I really want to be useful, so many men have used me for so long but that meant nothing and now I finally have the chance to do something worthwhile in my life, and I really want to help you, so yes. I am willing.' Her eyes fixed on his once more, and she smiled gently.

'You have no idea how much this means to me,' Draco leaned back in his chair, relief obvious on his face. 'Do you know Tilly well? Are you friends with her?' Hermione paused, and in that instant Draco had a sudden thought. He had just ripped Hermione away from the only home she had, where she had apparently lived for months. What if she had friends there? She might never see them again, she certainly could not go back after Moreau found her gone. He was beginning to see that he might have caused a lot of trouble for her.

'-but we weren't that close,' Hermione finished slowly, confused at the look of shock on Malfoy's face. 'Malfoy? Were you listening?'

He blinked, and looked at her. 'Granger, did you really want to leave? Did you have friends there? You'll probably never see them again, I'm-' He stopped short. He wasn't quite ready to tell Granger that he was sorry, not quite yet.

'That's what I was saying,' sighed Hermione exasperatedly. 'Even though I was there for a while, none of the other girls ever reached out to me. No one seemed to reach out to anyone. I guess we were all so used to being alone, and we didn't want to make friends in case we were hurt again, but it was driving me crazy. In the situation we were in, the thing all of us needed most was a friend. Tilly and I had to share our room a couple of times – all the girls shared with each other because there are more girls than beds, and when we didn't have customers we'd have to share with another girl. So I talked to her a little bit, and I sat beside her sometimes at meals, but we weren't that close. If I saw her again, I have no idea how we would react to each other, what we'd do if we met in a different place.' She did not know why she was being so open with Malfoy. She told herself it was because he needed all the information she could give him, if it helped him find Tilly. 'Nevertheless, I want to help you find her, and I'm pretty sure I know where she might be. Madame can't have thrown her out, because she was second only to Veronica (she didn't have to change her name because Veronica is a very suitable name for a man to cry out) in how many customers she got, and she can't have run away because she had no family and before she came to Madame's she was living under a bridge without a wand because her ex threw it in the river and she couldn't afford a new one.'

Draco took all this in, silently eating. 'How do you know she was telling the truth?'

'Because we always told the truth to each other. It was like an unwritten code.'

'What did you tell them about you?'

'I told them exactly what I told you, only I left out Harry's name. I said my friends were stifling me, and I tried to lead my own life and live for myself, and I failed miserably at it. That's the truth.'

'So if Tilly hasn't gone back to any potentially problematic relatives, where could she be?' Draco was trying hard to be patient, he really was, but Hermione was taking a while to come to the point and he had waited for information like this for a long time.

'When we get sick, we can't go to St Mungo's because they would start asking questions, and prostitution isn't exactly legal, is it? So there's a private doctor Madame sends us to because he's used to dealing with cases like… he's used to dealing with STDs. That's the only other place she can be that I can think of.'

Draco laughed. 'Granger, you're bloody marvellous. We would never have thought of that, and even if we had, we'd have no idea where to look. Seems like rescuing you had its advantages after all, even if I am going to have to spend the night on the couch.'

Hermione's fork clattered to the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**It's Update Weekend here at Casa Naomi! Just like every weekend, of course. Despite school piling up, I'm managing to keep writing a bit - I finished Chapter 7 and planned 8 and 9 while babysitting today, and I can't wait until we get there! Which will be about a month if I keep posting at this rate. I'm sorry if it's not fast enough for you, especially since you know I have the chapters waiting, but I don't want to update this in 3 days and then not do anything for another month to give myself time to write stuff. Wouldn't you rather have dependable but more spaced-out updates? I hope so. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, you've all been so nice :) But remember, criticism can help too. If you're tactless and rude I'll be upset for a minute and then decide you're not worth it, but if you help me I'll be very grateful, so anything that you think needs improving, just speak up!**

**DISCLAIMER: Copyright (probably. unless trademark? registered trademark? whatever...) J.K. Rowling**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

'So are you clumsy now as well as a know-it-all?' Malfoy smirked as Hermione dived under then table and emerged, red-faced, with the offending fork.

'Do you mean I'm… staying the night?' she asked haltingly. All the confidence she had gained from Malfoy's trust in her had fallen to the floor along with the fork.

'Of course, where else would you go?' Draco said nonchalantly. 'More wine?'

Hermione shook her head. She hadn't had wine as good as this for a while, and, combined with the overall shock of everything, it was going to her head a little. 'I could go to a hotel, it's no trouble, really.'

Draco laughed, but not unkindly. 'Do you have enough money to go to a hotel? It would definitely not be a very nice one, even if you did have enough. And I doubt that you would be able to afford more than one night anywhere, so it wouldn't be a very sensible solution. Moreover, I have surprisingly enjoyed your company over dinner tonight, now that we're both grown-up enough to leave the past behind us, and we'll need to set out early tomorrow on the trail of this elusive Miss Caster.'

They were all very sound reasons in Hermione's view. She ignored the bit about money because he was almost spot-on. Although she hadn't squandered her earnings on firewhisky with the majority of the other girls, Madame Moreau took an extortionately large share of their wage as 'living expenses', and her savings were pretty meagre. 'I am glad you agree that we are 'both grown-up enough to leave the past behind us',' she said slowly. 'When I saw it was you in the bedroom I felt cold all over, because I thought it would be exactly how it's always been between us. I knew I wouldn't be able to take any more name-calling and verbal battles.' Draco smirked. She looked straight into his eyes, and he was surprised by the emotion in them. Everything she was saying was so heartfelt, so utterly true, that he felt himself moved by it. 'I'm so grateful to you, for helping me out,' she said, not at all ashamed. 'But don't think that I'm only helping you to return the favour. If there's Death Eater activity still going on, I want to stop it in any way I can. And if that includes helping Tilly along the way, well, that's even better.'

'I know,' Draco smiled. A genuine smile, no trace of the trademark smirk. 'I know no one could ever make you do this if you didn't want to.' He stood up abruptly. 'Would you like some dessert? I have ice cream and…' he searched through a cupboard which Hermione supposed must be enchanted with a cooling charm. 'Well, just ice cream really. Unless you want to finish this tiramisu?' He held out an unopened tub of chocolate ice cream and the remnants of a store-bought tiramisu.

'No, really, that pasta filled me up…' Hermione refused.

Draco grunted. 'Whatever. You're far too thin, you obviously haven't been eating enough in that place, and you're going to have some. In fact, have all of it. I can get some more tomorrow,' he said, handing her a spoon.

'I'm not going to eat this all on my own!' Hermione was mildly outraged.

'Fine!' Draco rolled his eyes and got a spoon for himself. 'Let's go next door, you can find a book. You like books, right?'

Hermione swatted him with her spoon.

An hour later, Draco looked up from _A Briefe Historie Of Squimean Gulch (Being A Remarkable Account Of A Rare Place Worthie Of Wizarding Attention)_ to see Hermione's head lolling on the arm of the couch, one hand resting on her cheek while her spoon was held loosely in the other. He shook her awake, gently.

'Hmm?' she blinked sleepily. 'Oh, right. What time is it?'

'Past one o'clock. I'll show you my room, would you like a bath?'

Hermione shook her head. Keen as she was to submerge herself completely in hot water, without a time limit or a maximum temperature of about 15º, all she wanted now was to sleep. She let Malfoy take her hand and guide her into his bedroom.

She awoke many hours later, with sunlight twisting in through the wooden slats of the blind. She rubbed her eyes groggily and got out of bed. Her feet landed on a soft carpet, forest green and gorgeously thick. Her petticoat and cardigan were draped over the wing-backed chair in the corner opposite the low king-sized bed. She blinked. She blinked again. Something wasn't right. 'What are you wearing?' her brain asked her body. 'Bleuuuuugh,' her body replied. She looked down for herself. A simple white shirt, long enough to skim her thighs. She patted her chest. She was still wearing her bra. Sighing, she walked over to the bathroom. She opened the door. She could hear Malfoy whistling in the kitchen. She shook her head and tried the other door. This was more like it. Marble gleamed blackly at her, and she sat down on the toilet. Washing her hands and splashing the cold water on her face helped her to wake up a bit. Stripping down, she locked the door and started to run a bath. The tub was magnificent. She admired it as she watched the water steam down, experimenting with likely-looking bottles of crystals and bubbly liquids. _Malfoy likes his creature-comforts_, she smiled.

When the water – or at least, the bubbles – had reached a satisfactory height, Hermione slipped in. She hissed sharply at the heat of the water, but it was delicious to her dry, cold skin. She rested her head on the curved edge of the handsome freestanding bathtub, and sighed.

Draco whistled as he prepared breakfast – or rather, brunch. He hadn't wanted to disturb Granger, despite his being an early riser. Ok, so he had lied a little about wanting to get an early start on the Caster girl. But it was justified, seeing as it meant Granger was now getting a good night's sleep in a proper bed, with a proper bathroom and no one to share it with her. He flipped a pancake cheerfully. He rather liked being a knight in shining armour, sweeping to the rescue of damsels in distress. Especially damsels in distress who have grown up considerably since their schooldays.

After what she thought was probably sufficient enough time for anyone to remain in a bath, Hermione climbed out and reached for a towel. She wrapped it around herself, and used a smaller towel to scrub her hair dry. She felt cleaner than she had since she could remember, clean all the way through. Her glance fell on the white shirt. She couldn't go about in that all day, and walking about London in a dirty petticoat and a holey cardigan was not going to be practical. However, she slipped the shirt back on as she left the bedroom to greet Malfoy.

'Merlin, Granger, I was about to check if you were still alive,' Malfoy looked up from the stove, and swallowed at the sight of Hermione in his shirt, which was just a little too short to pass for a dress, wet-haired and utterly relaxed.

'How long did I sleep? I'm sorry, I probably spent too long in the bath, are we going to be late for finding Tilly?' she said, apologetically. Her mood changed at the sight of the frying pan. 'I love pancakes!' she said delightedly.

'It's 12:45, and I lied about setting off early. We have to wait here until 2pm before we can go anywhere, because I have another Auror coming to meet me here before we set off,' Draco replied carefully.

'What's with the sudden bout of honesty? You really have changed since school,' Hermione laughed.

'What sudden bout of honesty? I've just said I lied to you.' Draco was confused.

Hermione giggled again. 'But you were honest about lying, that's what matters.'

Malfoy shook his head and gestured at a plate on the table. 'Eat, before they get cold.'

Hermione tucked in to the best breakfast she could ever remember. Pancakes, bacon, syrup, all the butter she could stomach. 'Even if I am thin, I'll have to watch it if you keep this up.'

'Well since you seem to be taking such an invasive interest in what I'm feeding you, why don't you cook?' Malfoy retorted.

'I'd love to! I love cooking,' she smiled. 'But, I'd have to go to the grocery store first. And…' she hesitated. Draco looked at her expectantly. 'And I'd look a bit strange if I went in this shirt, or in my other clothes,' she admitted. 'You don't happen to have any women's clothes, do you?'

'Yes, Granger, I have longed harboured a secret passion for drag,' Malfoy drawled. 'Don't be ridiculous. I'll go down to Diagon Alley after brunch and get you something at Madam Malkin's.'

Hermione smiled. 'Normally I would say no, Malfoy, you really don't have to. But, admittedly, you do. At least let me give you money for it. I know it probably wouldn't mean tuppence to you, I mean, you're still rich, right?' Malfoy scoffed. Duh. 'But I haven't had a chance to buy anything in a long time, and I really want to buy something for myself.'

Draco stood up from the table and started clearing their plates away. 'Well, you make a good point. But I absolutely insist on getting this for you, despite your audacity in assuming I would in the first place. Because although it won't mean 'tuppence' to me, whatever that is, I can appreciate that you want to buy something for yourself and so I want to buy something for you so that you _can_ buy something for yourself, you see my logic?' He seemed pleased with himself.

'I don't get it…'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Honestly woman, you're supposed to be clever. If I get you a robe now, it means that you'll have something to wear to go shopping in, and then you can get something utterly frivolous that you absolutely don't need. A book, for instance. And then you'll be much happier.' He sat back down in his chair as if he ought to be congratulated for such a wonderful idea.

'Still as arrogant as ever, I see,' Hermione huffed, but her eyes sparkled. 'Do you have a quill and parchment?'

'What for?'

'No reason...' Draco raised his eyebrows as he handed her a small scrap of parchment, a quill and a pot of ink. He leaned over to see what she was writing, but she covered it with her hand. It looked like numbers. She went into her room to fetch her wand, and came out a few minutes later.

'It's blank,' said Draco, taking it from her.

'I've charmed it so you can't read it, silly. Give it to Madam Malkin, it's my measurements.'

Draco looked at her slyly. 'Why can't I read it?'

'Don't be ridiculous,' she said, but Draco saw her flush before she turned her head away.

'Don't open the door to anyone, I'll let myself in,' he called back as he closed the door. Hermione settled down on the couch to continue _I Married A Manticore! And Other Foolish Tales Of Woe_. Malfoy had a strange collection of books.

It was 1:45 when Draco returned with three paper parcels and a dress bag draped over one arm. Hermione looked up.

'Aren't you excited to see what I got? You have to change quickly, she's coming any minute now,' he said, thrusting the packages into her arms.

'Who?'

'The Auror we're working with on the Caster Case, silly. Put them on,' he said, pushing her impatiently towards the bedroom door and closing it behind her.

Hermione undressed, and gasped as she opened the parcels. 'Draco Malfoy!' she yelled through the door. 'Why did you get me underwear?'

'Am I mistaken in thinking that you wear underwear, Granger?' he replied, his voice scarcely covering his amusement.

Hermione stuck her head round the door. 'I already _have_ underwear, you know.'

'I know very well,' Malfoy smirked back.

'You're such a pervert!' she snapped angrily. Malfoy smirked all the more.

She reluctantly pulled on the underwear, secretly feeling glad that it was simple, clean and not intended to arouse. As she opened the dress bag, she gasped. Malfoy had chosen well, she had to admit. It was a perfect robe, as simple as their school ones but smart, resting just below the knee to blend in with Muggle fashions should they need to venture in to Muggle London, in a beautiful green colour a few shades darker than the carpet. It had a round neckline, almost too low for a day dress but not quite, and fitted elbow-length sleeves. Under the dress, in the same bag, she found a cream wool coat with big black buttons. It fitted perfectly, and it was only a little longer than the dress.

When she re-entered the living room, Draco looked up and stared. He had chosen well, but he didn't like her expression, or the way her foot was tapping the floor. 'Don't you like it?' he asked sheepishly.

'That's a stupid question, of course I like it. How could I not? Only, you didn't have to also get me a coat, and underwear, _and_ shoes!' she said thrusting the new pumps in his face.

'Oh come on Granger. It's cold outside, we'll be travelling a lot, ergo, you need a coat. The only underwear you have is ridiculously tarty, and probably dirty as well, and the top bits of your shoes are peeling away from the soles. In short, your wardrobe is a mess.'

Hermione flinched. 'You don't have to be so blunt about it.'

'You don't need to refuse my generosity so rudely,' Malfoy retorted instantly, but he felt a pang of guilt at the look on her face. 'Maybe I just think you deserve to wear something nice for a while?' he said, more gently.

'I think your former opinion is more likely, but thank you all the same. It's very kind of you,' she replied, a trifle haughtily, but she knew Malfoy knew that she was pleased.

There was a knock on the door, and Draco opened it.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**Who is at the door? Chapter dedication (it's all I can give...) to correct answers!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I've changed the rating of this fic, I don't feel the M is needed. If you feel really strongly to the contrary, well, I don't. So. Anyway... I've written some review replies! At the bottom. Check if your questions have been answered :) and on with the show! (Oh, and sorry if you get 2 alerts for this, I messed up the first submission)  
**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

'Hello Draco, I'm sorry I'm a bit late, Ron caught me on the way out asking about the files on Dolohov and-' The guest stopped short. 'Of course! Our helper. Will you introduce us?'

Hermione looked the new arrival up and down in disbelief. 'Malfoy?' she asked dangerously.

This was not going as he had planned. The Auror didn't recognise Hermione, and Hermione was looking as if the last person she ever wanted to see on the entire planet was standing five feet away in the doorway. He started to speak, but the Auror got there first.

'Hermione?'

Hermione looked down at her feet and tried not to cry. Even if Ginny had always been the least judgmental and quick-tempered of her friends, Hermione had been expecting a stranger, not her. Never her. Why hadn't Malfoy told her? And she couldn't leave now, not after Ginny had recognised her. Ginny would return to Harry and Ron and tell them, and Hermione would have to run away again, but she had nowhere to go. So she had to stay, if only to tell Ginny to keep quiet.

Ginny's mouth was still open in shock as she walked over to Hermione and brushed a hand through her hair. 'What in Merlin have you done to your hair?!' she laughed, half crying, as she hugged her old friend. 'Where have you been? It's been almost two years!'

Draco blanched. He knew Hermione had been… there… for a while, but_ two years_?

Hermione bit back a sob. 'I can't tell you, I— let Malfoy tell you, when I'm not here,' she whispered.

Ginny just hugged her tightly, both women crying softly to see each other again. Hermione pulled away, sniffing slightly. 'Please, don't tell Harry and Ron that you've met me,' she said.

'But—' Ginny caught Draco's eye, and he shook his head a fraction of an inch. 'Of course, Hermione, I won't tell. I would never tell, unless you wanted me to. But you don't want to see them yourself?'

Hermione shook her head.

'We should be going,' he said briskly. 'We need to get Hermione's hair changed back before we go to the clinic.'

'Oh, I can do this in a trice,' Hermione said, vaguely waving her wand at her head. Her hair turned blue.

'Merlin's beard Hermione, you know it doesn't work without a mirror,' laughed Ginny, returning Hermione's hair to normal. Draco blinked. He had almost gotten used to Platinum Blonde Hermione.

'Where is the clinic, Hermione?' Draco asked quietly in her ear as Ginny walked a few paces ahead.

She looked at him in disbelief. 'You don't know where it is?'

'No, or I wouldn't have asked,' he hissed. 'Where is it?'

'I only know it's in Streatham somewhere, I saw an envelope from the doctor once but Madame snatched it away really quickly. His name is Haettenschweiller,' Hermione answered. 'I know his practice is down a back alley, because Desdemona – she's such a chatterbox, she'll blab about anything – had Chlamydia and she was complaining about the smell of the garbage bins and being spat at by a cat and tripping over a soggy cardboard box on the way to the door. And it was common knowledge that it was in a Muggle area.'

Malfoy snorted. 'Streatham is practically nothing but back alleys and Muggle areas.'

'You've been?' Hermione looked at him in surprise.

'Yeah, some Death Eaters causing trouble there a while back. We should start in that area first, it wasn't particularly Wizarding,' Draco answered dryly.

'It's an old building, I remember that too. Because Desdemona said the bricks were crumbling. She likes to think she's very poetic, and she doesn't know what concrete is, so if it was a modern building she'd just have said 'that grey stuff that swarms all over Muggle London nowadays.''

'Right, well, it's a start. Thanks,' said Draco briefly, quickening his pace to catch up with Ginny. Hermione slowed. Had he just thanked her?

They took the Tube to Streatham, being unable to risk Apparating in front of a potential Muggle audience.

'Which way?' Ginny said cheerily when they reached the platform. Hermione was relieved to see that Malfoy had apparently not told her the source of his directions.

Draco led the way towards the familiar ground upon which he and three other Aurors had fought seven Death Eaters just over two years ago. It had been his first mission where they had been outnumbered, but nevertheless they had won victory without losses, although Longbottom had to spend a week in St Mungo's recovering from an extended Cruciatus Curse. They had all been thankful that he had recovered well – no one could forget the fate of his parents. Despite the time that had passed, he still remembered the way. They wound through dilapidated old streets before stopping outside what looked like an abandoned warehouse.

'We battled them in there,' he said quietly. The other two were silent. Hermione was looking around the area for anywhere that that resembled Desdemona's instructions about Haettenschweiller. She spotted an alley running down a break in the row of narrow terraced houses opposite the warehouse.

'Should we look down there?' she whispered to Draco. Ginny was absorbed in her thoughts.

'Ginny, let's try this way. My source said the entrance was off an alleyway,' he said in reply to Hermione's suggestion.

'We may as well,' sighed Ginny, coming back to the present.

The alleyway was indeed narrow and smelly, with a high brick wall marking a dead end. A door was set deep into the wall to its left, unremarkable with peeling white paint, a hole where a door handle used to be, and no post-slot or marker of any kind.

Draco drew his wand. '_Revelio!_' A brass nameplate popped silently into view, bearing simply 'O. von Haettenschweiller'. 'That's him,' Draco stated. He turned to Hermione and Ginny. 'Listen. When we get inside, if there's any sign of danger, Apparate back to my apartment. As soon as we've found Miss Caster, if possible I'll try and hold on to her and bring her back to my apartment – if I can't, one of you must. The other two follow when they can. If we see anyone else (except patients, of course), Stun them. We can't afford to be given away, or risk attack. I want this to be quick and painless.' The girls nodded as he tried the door. It was locked, but a simple _alohamora_ opened it.

'Wait!' said Ginny quietly. 'We should cast Disillusionments.' Malfoy did so, and, now nearly invisible, they slipped cautiously through the door.

They were greeted by a dark corridor, which smelled strongly of disinfectant and gin. Draco motioned for them to be silent, and they all drew their wands. They passed a number of closed doors, all bearing brass plaques saying things like _Haettenschweiller, O.R., Regency Room _and _Matron_. Malfoy glanced at Hermione, who shook her head quickly. Matilda would not be in any of those.

They came at last to a door with a number on it. Hermione gestured silently, and Ginny pulled out an Extendable Ear. Despite their situation, Hermione had a mad desire to giggle. They listened at the door.

'Her condition is improving?' asked a low voice with a heavy German accent.

'Yes, Herr Haettenschweiller. The last test found no trace of infection, but her temperature is still high. One more night should be enough,' a woman replied crisply.

'Good. I shall Floo that ridiculous Madame Moreau immediately, she has been pestering me about her condition for days,' replied Haettenschweiller. They heard footsteps heading for the door, and withdrew hurriedly, pressing themselves against the wall. They hardly dared to breathe as Haettenschweiller left the room. He did not look up as he turned away from the trio and headed towards the other end of the corridor, shuffling through a tatty paper file. All three let out a long breath once he was out of sight in his office.

'Oh no…' whispered Hermione.

'What?' Draco hissed sharply.

'He closed the door behind him, but the nurse is still in there,' Hermione groaned. 'If we open the door, she'll notice. And we can't Apparate in there if she's still there.'

Draco slid down to the floor and collapsed his head in his hands. Ginny pressed her eye to the keyhole, but let out a yelp when the door suddenly opened, knocking her to the ground.

'What in—' the nurse started, but she too collapsed as Hermione whispered _'Stupefy!'_

'Dice one Herbione!' Ginny breathed, massaging her nose.

'Let's go!' motioned Draco, and they slipped into the room, dragging the nurse with them.

The room was harshly lit with no window, only a flickering strip light on the ceiling. There was one bed and a small sink. In the bed lay a girl, who looked about a year younger than Ginny. She had the same shade of bottle-blonde hair that Hermione used to have, and her skin was very pale. She was asleep. The table beside her bed was littered with empty bottles and paper. Hermione removed her Disillusionment and went over to the bed.

'Danielle?' she said gently, touching the girl's thin shoulder tentatively. 'Danielle?' The girl let out a little moan and turned her head. 'Tilly?' Hermione tried.

Tilly opened her eyes slowly. 'Georgette?'

Hermione smiled. 'Hello. Matron said you're better now. We're taking you back.'

'But… I'm so tired,' Tilly whispered.

'It's ok, you don't have to move. I'm taking you by Side-Along Apparition,' Hermione replied, grasping Tilly's hand tightly. Hermione looked at where she thought the other two must be. 'Follow me,' she smiled, and the two girls vanished with a loud pop.

Ginny and Draco were just about to leave when they heard a loud groan behind them. Malfoy rolled his eyes. 'Can't that woman Stun anyone properly?'

Ginny pointed her wand at the nurse and cried '_ennervate!_' The nurse stood up slowly, looking around her. '_Obliviate!_' Her eyes glazed and walking over to the sink, she proceeded to wash her hands.

Malfoy nodded in approval, despite the fact that Ginny couldn't see him. He turned his head suddenly – footsteps were coming down the corridor. He reached out blindly for Ginny, but couldn't find her. He had to speak, even though the nurse was only feet away from them. 'My apartment, now,' he whispered sharply. The nurse did not look round, the running water disguised his voice, and although her head turned at the sound of two loud pops, the room was completely empty.

When the two Aurors arrived back at the apartment, Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Draco opened the door to his bedroom, and saw Matilda Caster lying on his bed, sleeping fitfully. She was crying out a little, seemingly delusional.

'Ginny,' he called, 'can you come in here and sit with Miss Caster? I'm going to look for Hermione.'

'She's probably just getting medicine,' Ginny replied, coming and sitting on the bed beside him. 'Should we wake her up?' she continued, gesturing to Tilly.

'No, I think she should sleep. That's what you have to do when you have a fever, isn't it?' Draco was not very good at rudimentary healthcare.

Ginny shrugged. 'All I know is 'feed a cold, starve a fever'. So she won't be eating you out of house and home, I guess.'

'I'm going to look for Hermione; there's somewhere she might be. If she gets back before I do, don't let her leave again. I'll be back in half an hour,' he said, leaving the room. Ginny heard the telltale pop signifying his Disapparition.

Malfoy knew only one place where Hermione may have gone, but he really did not want to go back there. Kidnapping one of her least successful prostitutes may have been a favour to Madame Moreau, but now he had taken one of her most lucrative protégés, Draco suspected she might not be so well-favoured towards him. Although, he supposed, there may be a small chance that Miss Caster's disappearance had not been noticed yet… He had Apparated directly into the room where he had first found Hermione. It was still empty. Cautiously, he opened the door and looked into the corridor.

After depositing Tilly carefully on Malfoy's bed, Hermione Disapparated directly to Madame Moreau's. All was silent. _The girls must be sleeping_, she thought, her mind still getting used to the idea that the long sleepless nights and short, tired days were no longer her daily routine. She crept down the silent corridor to where she knew Madame kept all the girls' possessions, save a spare few they managed to smuggle in. She started searching through the numerous drawers in the cabinets lining the walls. Suddenly, she heard a footstep on the floorboards outside the room, and the door creaked open slowly. She whirled around instantly, terrified, her wand raised, but let out a long breath of relief. 'Don't scare me like that!' she whispered.

Malfoy merely shrugged his shoulders in apology. 'Have you found anything?'

Hermione gestured to the pile of objects on the cluttered desk. 'Those are her belongings, and some of mine I found unexpectedly,' she said, her eyes shining. Draco realised that perhaps she had found some things of hers she had never expected to see again.

'Have you found her wand?'

'No, remember, her ex threw it in the river. She'll need another one. This is all we're going to find, let's get out of here,' Hermione said, hurriedly shoving the possessions into a wicker bin she had found in a corner.

'And Madame Moreau has no idea you're here?' Malfoy asked.

'No, she always sleeps between four and six. She's a great one for routine, she stands by it obsessively. Come on, let's go,' Hermione nagged, clutching Malfoy's arm tightly in one hand, her other arm wrapped around the bin.

'Well if that's the case, we have plenty of time. What are these files about?' he asked, pointing at the bookcase opposite the desk.

'I don't know, clients I suppose. If you take them, she'll know instantly she's been robbed, leave them alone.' Hermione was getting impatient.

Draco pulled down three bulging files, labelled most recently. '_Geminio!_' Hermione tsked and shoved the original files in the wicker basket, while Malfoy replaced the fake duplicates. '_Now_ can we go?' she asked, and they Apparated back to Malfoy's flat.

A worried Ginny met them in the living room. Hermione immediately hurried into the bedroom, carrying the wicker bin with her, thinking about all the terrible things that might have gone wrong with Tilly's condition.

'Is something wrong with Matilda?' Draco asked concernedly.

'No, nothing at all.'

Draco started towards the bedroom, but Ginny held him back. 'Malfoy,' she started. Draco stopped. Ginny scarcely ever called him Malfoy anymore. 'Where did you find Hermione?'

Draco looked down at the floor. 'What has Matilda said?'

'She's been hallucinating. She keeps calling out, 'please, no more!' and 'Georgette, Georgette'. And she sat up once, and said, really seriously, 'that's not herpes. It's not inflamed enough. Don't tell Madame.' What's going on?' Ginny was looking hard at Draco.

'Haettenschweiller is not a regular doctor,' he started slowly. 'He treats sexually transmitted infections and diseases, and his patients are usually those who cannot afford St Mungo's or, alternatively… don't want to go into the circumstances of their… infection.'

Ginny shook her head. 'I still don't understand.'

'No one has told you why we need Matilda Caster?'

Ginny shook her head again.

'She worked somewhere which is known to be frequented by Death Eaters on a regular basis. She contracted her infection while working.' Draco let it sink in. He was not normally this euphemistic, but he was suddenly awkward around Ginny.

She breathed in sharply, her eyes wide. 'She's a prostitute?' Draco nodded. 'Where does Hermione come into this?' Ginny felt she knew already, but she did not want to believe it.

'I brought Gra- Hermione,' he corrected himself, 'with us, because she knows Matilda Caster, and she knew where to look for her. She knows Miss Caster through… through working with her.' He could not look at Ginny.

She had released his arm, and sank heavily into the nearest chair. 'What the HELL? How did you find her?'

Draco met her eyes; they were brimming with tears. 'I went to the brothel to look for Matilda, and Hermione was there in her place. I acted on impulse and brought her here, thinking she would be able to help us find Matilda.'

Ginny was staring at the floor, stunned. After several minutes, she stood up and hugged Draco tightly, crying into his shoulder. He was too surprised to react. 'You saved her. How can I ever thank you enough?'

'I'm just returning the favour,' Draco replied.

Ginny drew away from him. 'How have you changed so much since Hogwarts?' She was smiling.

Draco stepped back and looked at the floor. 'All of you made complete fools of my family, and myself. Voldemort was defeated and my father was under close surveillance, what could I do? I figured I might as well make the best of a bad situation, and after a while I realised that being on the good side wasn't as bad as I thought it would be,' Draco said wryly.

'Don't tell Harry that,' Ginny laughed. 'He's convinced you had a Road to Damascus moment at some point.'

'A what?'

'It was on television, Harry explained it to me,' she said dismissively. 'What can I say to Hermione?' She was serious again.

'Once Matilda's feeling better, I'll talk to her about possible information she may have. Then you'll have a chance to talk to her, and she won't be worried about her friend's health or anything.'

'Ok. If it was an STD clinic she was in, does she need any special medicine?'

Draco shook his head. 'Haettenschweiller said she was free from infection, but we should ask Hermione, she'll know more about this sort of thing.'

'She didn't… she never had to go to Haettenschweiller's, did she?'

'If she did, she hasn't told me. But I wouldn't be surprised if she had; people who frequent places such as Madame Moreau's don't give much thought to safety.' Draco coughed nervously. He was remembering his father, and the conversations between his friends that Draco had been forced to listen to as his father tried to instil in his son a sense of what, for him, was considered manliness. But nothing could have made him admit that to Ginny.

Draco was reading on the couch and Ginny was preparing dinner when Hermione emerged from the bedroom some time later, with the wicker bin. 'Tilly's sleeping, properly. I gave her some cooling potion, so her fever should get lower. I thought we could look through these files—'

'I told Ginny,' Draco said, in a low voice. 'I'm sorry if you didn't want her to know so soon, but I couldn't lie to her, she deserves to know.'

Hermione sat down, and licked her lips nervously. 'How did she take it?'

'Well. She's just glad you're safe. I just thought I'd tell you, so it's not awkward when she tries to bring it up. She's going to talk to you when Matilda gets better and I'll be out questioning her.'

Hermione nodded. 'Right, well that will make it easier to explain where I got these files from.'

'Are you ok?'

'I'm fine.' Hermione was too falsely blasé, and Draco could tell she was holding back. He touched her arm gently.

'It'll all work out. She's so happy to see you again.'

'She won't be so happy when she knows why I went there in the first place,' Hermione whispered.

'Hermione, look at me.' Draco was surprising himself, calling her that. She seemed surprised too – she lifted her head quickly, looking him in the eyes. 'Nothing you could do would turn her away from you, or any of your friends. They love you, and they have been so worried about you. I should know, I've been working with them for two years now. Every time anyone mentions your name, they all fall silent, and Harry even cries sometimes.'

'Really?' Hermione whispered.

'Well, I made it up about Potter crying, but he probably does, when he's alone in the toilets.'

Hermione giggled. 'It's not that, I know they've missed me, but they don't know anything…'

Ginny walked in abruptly. 'The potatoes are on, I was just going out to get some— Hermione, are you ok?'

Hermione wiped her eyes and looked up. 'I'm fine, just… reminiscing over the things I found in Madame Moreau's office,' she said brightly, displaying the bin.

Ginny looked to Draco. 'You told her you told me?' Draco nodded. 'Hermione, as soon as we can we're going to sit down and catch up on everything, I promise,' she smiled. 'I'm just going out to get some beans for the potatoes, I'll be back soon.'

'We were going to look through these files, they're from the office as well and they may have information about some of the people we're looking for,' Draco said.

'Oh, I want to do that too! I'll be back soon, save the interesting ones for me!' Ginny called behind her as she left the apartment.

Hermione pulled the oldest file to her. 'January-June 2003,' she read from the spine. 'You can read this one, I'll take July-December,' she said hurriedly, without looking at him.

They settled down and started flicking through the files.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

**I figure this chapter is long enough already so I may as well add some… Review replies! First time, here's a chance for some of your questions answered:**

**Well, you may notice it changes sometimes. This was more neutral, because it was more action-packed. But last chapter, I was really trying to focus on Hermione's emotions and viewpoint on this new turn in her life, and the impact that getting out of the brothel has on her. In future chapters I will shift perspectives as warranted, that's one of the reasons I much prefer third person writing! It's not a criticism at all, I appreciate the insight :)**

**_LyaDarkfury_ – you're becoming a regular! Thanks for taking the time to review with such helpful comments, and I'm glad you find it funny :) do you have any suggestions for an improved summary?**

**_gem.babe_ – thanks, that's helpful. I try not to be too waffly.**

**And to all the rest of you, a big thank you for all your 'keep going's and 'update's and things. I suppose I should give a special mention to _Bubbes_, who has the distinction of being my most concise reviewer! :D  
**

**See you next chapter… in which Ginny and Hermione have a good old heart-to-heart.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you again for your kind reviews! Some backstory and lots of conversation here, after the action of last post.**

**DISCLAIMER: Characters are not mine, but please respect my idea and don't go whoring Hermione off everywhere.**

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

They were still there an hour later when Ginny returned with three bulging bags of food. 'I went a bit overboard, sorry.'

'Careful, it's my money you're spending,' Draco said, faking outrage.

'Yeah, and 15 galleons is really going to make a dent in your fortune,' Ginny replied sarcastically. 'Have you found anything interesting?'

'Dolohov was a regular during 2003, as was Mace,' Draco replied.

'Dolohov senior or junior?' Ginny asked. She was serious now, in work mode.

'Senior,' Hermione replied. She paused before adding, 'we all hated him, he's a dirty old man. And he has syphilis – half the girls who end up in Haettenschweiller's are his. But there's a potion he uses, it's easily cured. That's what's so despicable about Dolohov, that he didn't have it cured himself. He thought it was amusing that he could infect other people.' She couldn't bring herself to look at Ginny, but she could feel both her companions' eyes burning into her.

'Who else?' Ginny continued.

'Goyle, Faustus, Vernon and Kant are the only other patrons to be known Death Eaters, and they each return several times,' replied Malfoy.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. 'It was popular. The other patrons, have we heard of any of them?'

Draco and Hermione glanced at each other. Hermione pressed ahead. 'There's one name, Titus Gormen. He was in Ravenclaw, two years below us. We used to talk about him a lot, he was really handsome and…' She paused. 'I guess _charismatic_ would be the right word. But there was something wrong about him. He was exactly like someone you'd find in a romantic novel someone who seemed wonderful and perfect but actually he was really cruel and dark at heart.'

'So… might he be someone worth looking in to?' asked Draco.

'Possibly.'

'May I look through this file?' Ginny asked, pulling 'January-June 2004' towards her.

'No!' Hermione said suddenly, staring wide-eyed at the date on the file. 'I mean, uh, do I smell something burning?'

'The potatoes!' Ginny shrieked, leaping up and running into the kitchen.

Draco paused, thinking. 'When did you start?'

'November 17th, 2003,' Hermione replied quietly. He knew so much already, what did one more date matter?

Supper was a simple meal of baked potatoes with various toppings, and Hermione rushed through to get back to Matilda's side. She was doing better, her fever had broken and she was sleeping properly. Hermione's mind dwelt on the words of Haettenschweiller: that she would be ready to return to work tomorrow. She wouldn't be fit to even leave the flat tomorrow. Madame Moreau's greed and disregard for the health of her wards disgusted Hermione, to send girls back to bed while they were still sick. Only in that twisted world was a bed the last place a sick girl should be. No wonder Haettenschweiller was so successful, she knew girls who were down at his clinic every week, but Madame took every Knut it cost out of their meagre earnings.

Sighing, she reached over to the wicker basket containing their meagre belongings and pulled out a tattered notebook, a couple of photos falling out towards the back. She remembered this well – the guilt she had felt for weeks knowing that she had taken this from the pile on the bookshelf beside her teacher's desk without asking, back in primary school, before she knew she was a witch. It seemed disproportionately long ago, that final year of primary school. Looking forward to the big High School, growing up with her childhood friends, gossiping over boys, meeting in town on weekends, arguing with her parents… And then that letter had come from a strange place called 'Hogwarts', saying she was a witch, and her whole life had changed.

She flicked through the scruffy notebook slowly. Page after page of photos – herself with Harry and Ron, the Weasleys, holidays with her parents, the past 10 years spread out before her, up until two years ago when everything went wrong. Hermione picked up the photos that had slipped out of the back. These were different – two Muggle photos of an apparently happy couple, grinning frozen smiles and holding frozen hands. She had never stuck these in, and she wasn't about to now. She looked at each one for only a second before ripping them both into pieces.

Matilda sat up suddenly, making Hermione jump. 'Merlin, Tilly! You scared me! How are you feeling?'

'I'm so thirsty,' she replied.

'Hold on,' Hermione said, thrusting the notebook back into the wicker bin, 'I'll get you some water.' She returned soon and sat at the end of the bed while Tilly drank greedily.

'Thanks, Georgette.'

'Don't call me that,' Hermione said, almost sharply.

'Oh, sorry. Your real name's Sally, right?' asked Tilly in a daze.

'No, I gave a fake name. My real name is Hermione, Hermione Granger.' Hermione watched for some recognition, but after five years she was relieved to see that Tilly, at least, did not recognise her.

'Right. Hermione. Where am I?'

'You're in the apartment of an Auror, called Draco Malfoy. Do you remember either of us from Hogwarts?' Hermione asked gently. She couldn't remember any Matilda Caster, but she did not know many of the younger students, especially in younger years. Besides, maybe she had given a false name as well.

'I… I didn't go to Hogwarts,' Tilly said slowly. 'I'm… I'm a Squib. Madame Moreau's was the only place I could find work. I lied about my wand falling in the river.'

'Why are you telling me this now?' Hermione asked after a pause.

'Because… if you want anything out of me, you should know I can't fight back,' Tilly said defiantly, but Hermione could tell she was getting scared.

'No, Tilly, don't think anything like that, please!' Hermione gushed. 'We brought you here to protect you. Malfoy – the Auror I mentioned – he went to Madame Moreau's looking for you, because he thought you could help him with something. He found me, and together we got you out of Haettenschweiller's.'

'He was going to send me back, wasn't he? I remember his voice, saying I was alright, I wanted to argue but I was under the sedative.'

At that moment Malfoy entered. 'I thought I heard voices. Miss Caster, I hope you are feeling better?'

'Yes, thank you,' Tilly smiled. 'Although I'm still quite tired. Geor— Hermione told me about how you got me here.'

'It was no trouble,' Draco replied.

'But it will be trouble, for you,' contradicted Tilly. 'I'm almost the best earner behind Veronica and Madame's not going to let me go as easily as she'd let Hermione. Sorry,' she added. Hermione shook her head. 'But if I go back she'll ask questions about where I've been.'

'Don't worry, we'll sort it out. The Ministry will provide you with safe accommodation as long as you need it,' Draco replied efficiently. He turned to Hermione. 'Would you please excuse us?'

Hermione left the room, trying not to smile at his odd show of manners.

'Hermione, can we talk now?' Ginny asked, passing her friend a cup of tea. Hermione nodded, and they both sank onto the couch. Neither said anything for several minutes. 'Why did you leave?' Ginny's voice was quiet and serious.

Hermione dropped her head. 'I'm not ready to tell you everything yet,' she admitted. 'If you told Harry and Ron – and it's ok, I don't expect you to hide anything from them – I don't think I could bear their reaction.' She had never been as close to Ginny as to Harry and Ron, and although it would hurt to be abandoned by her, Hermione knew she would be able to accept it in time. But being rejected and becoming an object of revulsion to Harry and Ron, that would rip her apart.

'You have to tell them some time,' Ginny pointed out. 'If you had told me not to tell them I wouldn't have, but thank you for letting me. I will tell them Malfoy found you, but I respect your decision to want to tell them your reasons before you tell me.' Hermione smiled gratefully. Ginny paused before continuing. 'Were you ever hurt, in Madame Moreau's?'

'I wasn't… as popular as some of the other girls,' Hermione admitted. 'I never had to go to Haettenschweiller's; if you can still work Madame just gives you a Pepper-up Potion, takes it out of your wages and makes you get back in there.' She took a deep breath. 'But some of the men… I could hear girls crying, during the day when we were supposed to sleep. None of us could sleep, not properly. It haunted us…' She couldn't go on.

Ginny hugged Hermione to her. 'You don't have to tell me any more today,' she whispered. 'But would you like to meet Harry and Ron yet? You can come over as soon as you like.'

Hermione shook her head. 'Not yet. It's still a huge adjustment for me, living here with _Malfoy_ of all people, and seeing you again… I need a break.' Ginny laughed. Hermione hesitated before asking, 'Malfoy has changed so much since school. Why?'

Ginny thought for a while. 'I don't know exactly why. If you ask him, he'll probably tell you more than I can. But I think it has something to do with us saving his life, in that last battle, even if Ron was a bit insensitive about it. When I started working at the Ministry I was put on a job with Draco, and when I asked Harry what had induced him to work for our side, Harry just said 'there's hope for everybody who repents'.'

'When was this?'

Ginny looked at the ceiling. 'I started in 2002, when you were living in Muggle London.' Hermione avoided her friend's eyes, but Ginny didn't notice. 'He was quite new then too. I've heard that he spent a long time travelling the world after Voldemort was defeated; he was probably 'finding himself' or something.'

Hermione sighed and rolled her head back to rest on the arm of the couch. 'This is all so much to take in. I was desperate, when he came. It was my last chance to fill my quota before—'

'Your quota?' Ginny interrupted.

'We… uhh… have to have at least three clients a week to stay otherwise Madame chucks us out. She was already warning me because for several weeks I've only had the bare minimum, while all the other girls have had at least… five…'

Ginny could scarcely conceal her shock. 'She would throw you out if you didn't sleep with three men in one week?'

'That's how it worked. She said there were plenty of other girls out there who would kill to be in my position, and I'd better stop mincing about or I'd be on the street quicker than you can say _Wingardium Leviosa_.' Hermione shuddered at the memory. 'I was sitting on the bed, knowing my next client would mean the difference between a proper room and a cold doorway, when Malfoy walked through the door. I didn't recognise him at first, and I made such a fool of myself…' Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Ginny was silent as she listened. 'And he rescued me, it was so exciting. Whispering, making a plan, sneaking around to get his wand back, it was an adrenaline rush. I completely forgot how he treated me at Hogwarts. He was so nice, and then he kept being nice, and even though I was thinking 'this is _Malfoy_, he tortured you for six years, get a grip on yourself', my heart wasn't in it. I could tell that he was sorry, that he had changed. Now after all we've been through, I'm pretty sure we're becoming friends.'

Ginny smiled widely. 'That's so wonderful, Hermione. All of us actually like him now, and I'm so grateful to him for saving you. I'm glad you can see how different he is, he makes such an effort and it's all genuine. Sometimes he flickers back, when an intern makes a mistake or something, but he's learning.'

'I should think so, it's been five years,' Malfoy grunted. The girls spun round.

'How long have you been there?' Hermione asked, shocked.

'Since 'all of us actually like him now'. Why? Were you talking about something you want to keep private?' Hermione blushed.

'It's getting really late, Harry will be getting worried,' Ginny said suddenly. 'Congratulations, both of you, today has been really successful.' She hugged Hermione tightly, whispering in her ear. 'I'm so glad you're home.'

_Home._ Ginny just threw the word into the air carelessly, but Hermione stiffened. She hadn't had a home for over ten months. Could Draco's apartment become a substitute?

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**Next chapter: plot bunnies galore!**


	6. Chapter 6

Hello again everybody :) I'm sorry to say that I will be taking a break for two weeks due to exams coming up (big ones...) so I'll be concentrating on other things. Sorry about that! But I hope you enjoy this all the same.

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Hermione woke early. She was suddenly more awake than she ever had been in her life, and she couldn't stay in bed any longer. Looking around to see if anything had woken her, she saw only Matilda sleeping soundly. She padded out of the room softly.

The curtains were open and the moon shone into the living room, almost as bright as day. Hermione went to the window and stood there looking over London. Thousands of lights twinkled in the darkness, reflected in the winding Thames. Somewhere out there, she knew, girls who she had almost come to count as friends were being forced to give themselves up to strangers, for a few measly Sickles and a roof over their heads. Hermione sighed and collapsed to the floor. She lay there as she had fallen, silent tears falling from her eyes as everything she had experienced in the past ten months flooded her memory; the sleepless nights, the fear of being thrown out, the hunger, the loneliness… and the constant revulsion she felt towards her own body and everybody who made her feel that way.

Draco found her there, hours later when a washed-out sun was beginning to climb up over the river. Its rays fell on her curled-up body, making her hair sparkle with shots of gold. She looked so peaceful. He touched her shoulder gently. She buried her face in the carpet. 'Hermione?' Her eyes blinked sleepily.

'Hmm? Why am I on the floor?' She propped herself up on her elbows and looked into Draco's eyes. 'What time is it?'

Draco swallowed. Her eyes were flecked with gold, mirroring her hair, and a bit of sleep-dust was clinging to the outside of her eyelid. He reached over and brushed it away gently with his thumb. 'It's 6:43,' he replied, 'and you were just lying here, I assume you wanted to look at the view.'

Hermione's head fell as she remembered last night. 'No, I… I couldn't sleep, and I came out here, and then everything just sort of caught up with me…'

'What do you mean?'

'This life, the past few days, it's all been so fast. You appeared in my room and you were the last person I expected and in under half an hour I was here, suddenly, and… it's a lot to handle.' Her elbows were wobbling with the effort of keeping her up. Draco put an arm around her to steady her.

'Hermione…' She let her head fall on his shoulder, and he wrapped his other arm around her slight frame. 'You need to eat more,' he whispered, but she ignored him.

'Do you know how long it's been since I had a friend?' she asked.

'I don't want to know. You have a friend now, that's what matters, right?' Hermione nodded. Draco pulled her closer, stroking her back. 'I'm so glad I found you, before it was too late.' He looked down. Tears were spilling out of Hermione's eyes, spreading across his shirt. 'Why are you crying?'

'It's you,' she whispered. 'You're…'

Draco tipped her chin up. A chill ran down Hermione's spine at the look in his eyes. She blinked, and in the moment her eyes were shut she felt his lips at the corner of hers, the gentlest and sweetest kiss she had ever had. She opened her eyes as Draco moved his head away. She brought her palm up to trace the outline of his jaw.

'Are you ready?' he asked breathlessly.

Hermione's palm dropped abruptly to her lap. Draco's hand was on the nape of her neck, his thumb tracing circles beneath her ear. She couldn't think properly. 'No,' she replied, so quietly that Draco almost didn't hear. He drew his hand away from her neck to take hers, and standing up, he led her over to the couch.

Hermione's eyes followed him as he sat down on an armchair opposite. 'I'm sorry,' she said.

'I wasn't expecting you to be ready, not yet,' he said. He paused, wringing his hands, and Hermione could see the effort it was taking him to say this. 'But I would hope that… when you are ready…'

'Draco.' His hands froze. 'It's been so long since I've been able to trust anyone. And I'm here, now, with _you_… I'm trying to forget everything about school and the past few years, but it's hard. I'm sorry.'

'Is that a no?'

'No. I can't give you an answer to anything yet.'

Draco breathed out, and then stood up abruptly. 'We have work to do. I'll get us some coffee.'

He walked into the kitchen. Hermione looked down at her lap, wondering if she had done the right thing. She had had no idea that Draco felt anything towards her. If she was honest with herself, what she wanted more than anything was someone to feel close to, to feel more than the numbness she had felt from every man she had slept with while at the brothel. For years, her life had had no meaning. After defeating Voldemort there seemed nothing left to do. And now she was back in exactly the same place she had spent the last six years running away from, helping to track down newly surfacing Death Eaters. But now there was Draco. _What have I done?_ she asked herself. She had said no, now nothing would ever happen, and that thought was only now beginning to wriggle its way through her gut, making her feel almost nauseous.

'Hermione.'

'Yes?' She looked up at Draco from her cup of coffee. They were alone in the kitchen.

'Something doesn't add up,' Draco replied, not meeting her eyes. 'Ginny said she hasn't seen you in two years, but November 17th was only about ten months ago.'

'Oh.' Hermione breathed out slowly. 'Well… some things happened in between our last meeting and my going to the brothel. And that's the deepest secret nobody knows, and it's going to stay that way.' She reached out and touched his hand, lying next to his mug. 'I just told you, I'm trying really hard to trust people again. But this is the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with.' Draco nodded. 'But,' Hermione continued, 'I hope we can be friends anyway, even if I am hiding things from you.' There. She had said it. Now they would be friends, which would be all right, because Hermione needed a friend. Even though what she really wanted was something more.

'Of course. You have a right to hide things from me. Whatever drove you to that brothel is too big for me to understand, I realise that. But I hope someday, if you ever need someone to talk to about it, you'll come to me?' Draco smiled.

'Absolutely,' Hermione smiled back.

Hermione was making breakfast when Ginny knocked on the apartment door two hours later.

'Mmmm, bacon! Can someone help me with these?'

Draco jumped up from the couch. 'Where've you been? We haven't heard anything since Tuesday. And what's all this about?' They dropped the pile of folders and envelopes on the kitchen table.

'I asked Harry and Ron about those names we found, and it's taken a couple of days but they came up with this. The stuff on Titus Gormen is especially interesting, I think we have a definite lead there,' Ginny panted.

'Ok, let's see then.'

They both sat down, and Hermione came and joined them with three plates of bacon and eggs.

'Right,' Ginny started. 'Titus Gormen kept a low profile at school. No records of him in any clubs or teams, no noticeable detentions, just the usual late homework stuff. No record of him in the final battle either. The only thing out of place is the fact that he didn't return to school after the summer. He should have gone back to Seventh Year in October when Hogwarts opened again. But he wasn't there, and there was no explanation.'

'That's not particularly suspicious, I mean, lots of students didn't return,' Draco pointed out.

'Yes, but not without explanation. Hogwarts tried to contact his parents, who were both Purebloods, but there was no reply. Their bodies were found in stage five of Limpitas. It was just by chance, we almost missed them. Killing Curse, and their wands were gone,' replied Ginny.

Both Draco and Hermione appreciated the severity of this. Limpitas was the official name of the massive clean-up operation instigated by the Ministry after the final battle. If the bodies of Titus' parents had only been found by chance during the last stage of the clean-up, then they must have been very well hidden, by powers of magic to be reckoned with.

'Any news of Gormen since then?' asked Hermione.

'His Wand Tax hasn't been paid since the Trace was removed on him, but even MRS couldn't track him down. This is someone who doesn't want to be found.'

'And yet, he frequents Madame Moreau's under his own name,' Draco mused.

'Well yeah, Madame Moreau's is probably one of the safest places for fugitives,' countered Hermione. 'None of the girls will speak up or they'll get thrown out, and they rarely know the names of their clients anyway. Madame herself doesn't take sides, she's just after money. And no one pays attention in that area – it's best not to look to closely at anyone, in case you're noticed. So it's easy to go incognito.'

'Hermione, did you ever…' Ginny trailed off.

'Sleep with him?' Hermione cut in. 'Once. At the beginning. He didn't recognise me, or he probably would have avoided me. He didn't say anything until he was leaving the room. Then he spoke just two words, 'Tempus Fugit', and laughed.'

'Tempus Fugit? What's that?' asked Draco.

'Huh? It means 'time flies'. People use it all the time,' said Hermione, bewildered.

'No they don't…' Draco replied, but he was interrupted by a gasp from Ginny. 'What?'

'Tempus Fugit!' The others looked blankly at Ginny. 'We found Gormen's house, but it was empty. Harry put Aurors on at full strength to search the place, but they found very little of use. Just this-' Ginny took an envelope from the pile of documents and emptied it onto the table. Two scraps of burnt paper fell out. Hermione picked up the largest one, on which were written two words.

'_Tempus Fugit.'_

'Wow. A connection,' Draco deadpanned.

'Oh come on,' Hermione groaned exasperatedly. 'This is more meaningful than anything else we've found so far. Clearly that means something. So…' Hermione grabbed a pencil and started scribbling ideas on the envelope. 'You hadn't heard the saying, Draco. Had you heard it before, Ginny?'

'No, none of the Aurors knew what it meant.'

'Who's on the Auror team?'

'Me, Ron, Harry, Luna… no one else you know, I think.'

'But are the others all Purebloods?' asked Hermione fervently.

'Yes, but why?'

'If none of you have heard it, it must be a Muggle thing. And if it's a Muggle thing, then Gormen has to have some connection with Muggles, or he wants us to think that.'

'I don't know, Hermione…' Ginny was uncertain. 'I mean, his parents were both Purebloods. So that kind of eliminates an obvious connection—'

Hermione interrupted her. 'He could have some other—'

'No, that's not all, sorry,' Ginny continued. 'His parents were both killed, even though they're both Purebloods. Even Voldemort didn't want to spill more magical blood than was necessary. I don't think this has anything to do with blood purity.'

'Maybe their deaths were necessary,' suggested Draco.

'_Murder_ is never necessary!' Hermione cried.

Draco just scoffed. 'It is, and you know it. You know the way they think. You were in the final battle, weren't you? Don't tell me either of you have never killed anyone.'

Hermione looked down at her hands. 'Neither of us have ever cast the Killing Curse, I know that for a fact. But… there are other ways to kill people,' she said, quietly.

It was suddenly rather awkward. But the tension was soon broken at the sound of a voice from the bedroom.

'Hello?' Matilda's voice was faint.

Hermione ran into the bedroom. 'Tilly? Are you all right?'

'I'm fine, thank you,' she smiled.

Hermione let out a long breath. 'Thank goodness! I thought something was wrong.' She took out her wand and transfigured a glass on the nightstand into a bell. 'Here. Ring this bell if you need one of us, we can't have you shouting every time you want to see us,' she said gently.

'Thanks,' Tilly smiled again. 'I was wondering, would I be able to talk to Draco?'

**x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

Also, one last note, you naughty readers! 3423 hits and 30 reviews? That's quite pathetic, really. Sorry. :) I love hearing what you all think, and every single review is read and smiled over and filed away in my special folder called 'Fanfic', so it really means a lot to get reviews. This is the first time I've mentioned it, I think. I don't usually beg. But I would really like to hear what more of you think about this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello again! My exams are over, I'm back from holiday and raring to go :) I hope you enjoy this chapter - it's shorter than usual but I'm quite happy with it. As one reader has perceptively pointed out, emotions seem to be my strong (or stronger) point than action (although whether either are very good is up to yourselves to decide.)**

Draco entered the room quietly. It was lit dimly, with only a bedside lamp turned on. Matilda was sitting propped up on his pillows; her long hair was still its unnatural blonde colour – however, her cheeks were no longer sunken but rosy, and her eyes had lost their dark circles. He sat down in the armchair facing the bed.

'What did you want to talk about?' he asked gently.

Matilda looked down at the duvet on her knees, plucking at its hem. She smiled at him coyly through her eyelashes. 'I don't know. I just wanted some company, I guess.' She paused. 'You're too far away for a friendly chat. Sit on the bed, I can barely see you.'

Draco walked slowly over to the bed and sat down at the foot, his hands in his pockets. He was suddenly very aware that Matilda was wearing nothing more than a silk nightdress, which she was making no attempt to cover.

Matilda leaned forward, taking his right arm and pulling him towards her. 'Stop being so shy!' she giggled.

He looked at the floor. 'You haven't fully recovered yet, Miss Caster—'

'Call me Matilda,' she interrupted. 'Or I can be Danielle, if you like.'

'You are not Danielle anymore,' Draco said, with feeling. 'You don't have to go back to that life anymore, you're safe now.' His voice almost cracked with emotion, and Matilda heard it. But the words were not directed wholly at her.

'I know,' Matilda replied. 'You saved me. My hero.' Her voice was soft and husky, as she began to draw her finger down Draco's arm to wear his hand entered his pocket.

'Miss Caster, I must insist that you rest.'

'I told you, it's Matilda.' A look of hurt flicked across the girl's face. 'Why are you so stiff and polite around me? Well,' she added as an afterthought. 'You can be stiff if you like, I can help you with that.'

Draco turned away in disgust when he saw her grin. 'If you have nothing to tell me in the way of _useful information_, I must leave you now. Get some rest,' he sneered, as he walked towards the door.

Matilda got out of bed and walked towards him shakily. 'How can you say that to me?' she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears where a moment ago they had been hooded with potential desire. 'I'm alone and vulnerable. You're single and unfulfilled. We can help each other.'

'At the risk of sounding dismissive,' said Draco in a quiet voice laced with danger, 'I can honestly say that the only way you can help me is with information about your clients. You have no right to speak that way to me, and I shall not allow it to happen again.'

'So there it is,' laughed Matilda mirthlessly. 'You only want me for my information. If I were as unsuccessful as _Hermione_ out there-' she spat the name out with distaste – 'you would have left me to rot in Haettenschweiller's fucking _clinic_. Well let me tell you that you wouldn't get any information out of me, even if I had some to give.' Draco could no longer look at her, and made for the door. But she grabbed his arm and pulled him to her. It was so unexpected he did not resist. 'So what does _she_ have that I don't? Why is _Hermione _worth saving, even though the only _clients_ she ever had were fat old tramps?'

Matilda was standing just a little too close, and holding on to him a little too tightly for comfort. She raised her head just enough to look into his eyes, and what Draco saw there scared him. Anger, jealousy and intent. And then she kissed him, hard, with such force that any reservations Draco still had about her health flew out of the window.

He felt her teeth on his lower lip, grazing it roughly, trying to force his mouth open, and he pushed her away. 'I'm sorry, I—' But she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on a point beyond his shoulder, and they were triumphant. He turned slowly, the expectance of who he would see not in the least reducing the dread at seeing her.

She was frozen in the doorway, light framing her body like a halo and casting her face into shadow. But it could not disguise the look on her face – horror, mixed with pure anguish.

'Hermione!'

She made no sound, but span from the doorway and ran into the kitchen.

Draco cast Matilda a look of disgust, but she just collapsed onto the bed, smiling lazily.

'Was I good?'

'Don't speak to me,' he spat as he marched from the room, closing the door rather harder than necessary behind him.

She heard him come into the kitchen, but she did not look up. Draco had never seen a more desolate sight. Her elbow was resting on the table, supporting her head while one finger absent-mindedly traced patterns in the sugar left over from breakfast. Her gaze was concentrated on the table, as if she was focusing all her energy on the sugar instead of her thoughts. But Draco could see the pain in her eyes, taking over, as if it would consume her. But they were dry. Her face held no trace of tears.

'Hermione—'

'Don't.' Her gaze remained fixed on the table. 'Don't say my name. Say what you have to say, but don't say my name.'

'Right. Sorry.' Draco breathed in deeply, not about to question her. 'I'm… I'm sorry. Really.'

'For what? For all the lies you told me?' She looked at him then, and it was so intense that he had to look away.

'I never lied to you. It was one kiss, and I didn't even—'

'I don't know why I ever believed you. You weren't in the brothel for information, you were there for sex, just like all the rest.'

'You know that's not true!' He was finding it hard to stay calm against Hermione's growing hysteria.

'Why should you be any different? You, of all people, after everything that you did to me at school!'

Draco snapped. 'That's not fair!' he shouted. 'I've changed and you know it. I'll be the first to admit that I was shit in school, but we agreed we were both grown up enough to put it behind us. You accepted that, get over it! It's been five years, for fuck's sake!'

'No! You're just the same as you always were. Your usual slut wasn't available, so you took me to start your own little harem and then used me to get your little fuck buddy back! You disgust me,' she spat.

Draco couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'Where is this coming from? You're being completely unreasonable. It was a kiss! One kiss! And I didn't even participate, she just jumped me! What the hell is going on in that twisted little mind of yours Granger?' He threw that last word in solely to spite her, and it worked.

Her eyes flashed, but her voice was suddenly stony, tainted with the eerie calm of the eye of a storm. 'I told you not to say my name, and yet you turn around and use it to insult me? No, listen to me,' she said, as he opened his mouth to speak. 'I'm not angry because it's Matilda. She's a dirty whore who'll do anything to get what she wants, and for some reason she seems to be out to get me. Don't flatter yourself that it's anything to do with you. I am angry at you for going against everything you have said and done over the past week that made me think you might want me for more than just my profession. For making me think we could be friends, or more, if I were ever ready for that. Well now I never will be, not for you. You have made me lose any thought I might have had about getting my life back on track and beginning to connect with people again. You're worse than all the other lowlifes I've had to deal with over the past ten months put together, because you took away my hope. They insulted me and hit me and raped me and demeaned me, but you put them all to shame because you rescued me, presented me with a future, and then showed me it was all a joke. That's why I'm so upset over one kiss.' She took a deep breath. 'And that's why I'll be staying with Ginny from now on. I have no future with you, perhaps I may be able to salvage some scrap of hope from the only people left who might care for me. I'm so sick of just giving in and crying. Thank you for giving me a wake-up call. And thank you for the clothes,' she added as an afterthought.

'Green is your colour.' It was the only thing he could think of to say.

Hermione turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving a stunned Draco at the table trying to work out what had just happened.

Hermione sat in the shower, letting the hot water pound her back until her whole body went numb. Her mind was empty, she had nothing left to think about. She had bared her soul to Draco, and now there was nothing left. She sat for an hour watching droplets of water drip form the tips of her hair, before standing up and turning the water off.

She stood in front of the mirror, not bothering with a towel, dripping on the tiled floor. She looked at herself for a long time, without thinking or saying a thing. She traced her scars with her index finger, remnants of a time when she had been able to feel. Some were little more than silver-white threads snaking across her skin. Others were deeper, red-purple whorls warping her body, twisting the skin out of shape.

She realised suddenly how cold she was, so she dried herself off with her pyjamas and used a charm on her hair. She didn't want to touch anything of his. She dressed in the one outfit he had bought her, what she had worn every day since, her colour. She wanted to hate the clothes, wanted to feel them crawl on her skin, but they smelled and felt only of comfort. She picked up her wand and left the room without looking back.

Draco had fallen asleep at the table, his head resting on his arms. Matilda was nowhere to be seen. Hermione tried not to look at him as she crossed his apartment for what she believed to be the very last time, but his white-blond hair falling across his face drew her eyes like a magnet. His forehead was creased in a frown, his mouth slightly open. She opened the door softly and walked away from the only place in the world that she might have called home.


	8. Chapter 8

**You lucky things, here's a nice long chapter. A bit out of season but hey. **

**We're coming up to a time when I really need to hear your opinions on where you think this should go. Obviously I have a story outline and the next two chapters, but they're pretty heavy with talking and emotion rather than action. Do you think there is enough/not enough action? Is the pace of their relationship too slow? Are the characters convincing? Please review and tell me what you think, because I'm writing this for all of your, after all :) **

**DISCLAIMER: Not mine, but I'm grateful for the chance to meddle.**

'Come on Hermione, you need a break.'

Hermione looked up from the table in the kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place to see Ginny standing before her holding two cups of tea. 'I still haven't finished this paperwork, I need—'

'Tea,' Ginny finished for her. 'Hermione, it's Christmas Eve. Stop working. We haven't had a lead on Gormen for weeks, there's nothing more we can do, except wait until he makes another move. In the mean time, try to relax. And celebrate! It's Christmas!'

It had been three months and sixteen days since Hermione had left Draco's apartment, and in that time she had seen him only once. Titus Gormen had confirmed their suspicions and launched a small-scale attack on a local Wizarding hospital near Godric's Hollow. All available Aurors were sent out to counter the uprising – they were not needed anywhere else and Harry, as chief, just wanted it over as quickly as possible. During the clean-up operation Hermione caught sight of a white-blond head whipping around a corner and ran to where she thought he was, but he had already Disapparated. That was six weeks and two days ago now, but she still thought about him every day. Her anger had cooled, and she was beginning to realise that she had reacted too strongly and too quickly. But she still maintained that everything she had said was true, and her pride forced her to wait until he made the first move.

_But it's been so long. Maybe he doesn't want to make a move at all._ She sighed mentally and took the cup of tea Ginny was offering her.

'Put the files away,' Ginny urged.

'But there may be something—' Hermione caught the look in Ginny's eyes, looked at the files, looked at her tea, and looked back at the files again. 'Fuck it?'

'Fuck it,' Ginny smiled, as Hermione pushed them all off the table onto the floor.

'Does Molly want us to cook anything for tomorrow?' Hermione asked. They were taking a break from tradition this year, hosting Christmas Day at Grimmauld Place instead of the Burrow for the first time ever. But Molly Weasley, adamant that if she were not to host Christmas proper, she would at least cook everything, had been permitted to arrange all the food.

'No, you know her. You make anything, she'll think it's a hint that she's inadequate. Drinks, that's all we're good for. Although I want to make something more child-friendly for dessert than Christmas pudding.'

'Do you need any help?'

'Stop finding excuses and go to bed, you need an early night!' Ginny scolded jokingly. 'You're as bad as Victoire.'

'Speaking of which, are the little madam's eating habits still as picky as ever?'

'Yes. She still refuses to eat anything if it's touching anything else. Honestly, she won't even eat soup unless you tell her it's only made of one thing. Bill has had to convince her that cake is a single ingredient! Tomorrow will be a nightmare, I'm sure. At least pigs in blankets are all pork.'

Hermione laughed as she left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to her room, grateful for the chance of an early night. She knocked on Harry's study door on her way up, but no one answered. _He must be working late,_ she thought.

After finishing her tea, brushing her teeth, washing her face and wrapping up the final presents, Hermione collapsed into bed. She fell asleep almost immediately, and for the first time since September 9th, she did not dream of Malfoy.

She was woken by the sun, filtering in through the gaps in her blinds. She blinked her eyes sleepily and looked at her watch – 9:45. She had a shower and flipped through her wardrobe, wondering what would be nice enough to celebrate her first Magical Christmas in years. It had expanded considerably from the one outfit Draco bought her. Some old things of Ginny's, work robes, the (very) occasional treat, and it was almost indistinguishable from any normal wardrobe. But nothing quite suitable for Christmas Day, save the dress he had bought her. Sighing, she slipped it on. After three months of good eating and running around her figure had noticeably filled out, but the dress only looked better for it. It fitted perfectly, and she couldn't remember when she had last looked so… _smart!_ She smiled. Pinning her hair up simply, she took her wand and carefully levitated the pile of presents she had prepared downstairs.

'Happy Christmas!' she cried, entering the kitchen. Harry and Ginny were at the table, in front of a roaring log fire, while Kreacher fried bacon and eggs. 'No one else has arrived yet?'

'Hermione!' Harry stood up and hugged her. 'Merry Christmas! The guests should be arriving from ten onwards. And Molly said dinner will be ready for five, so we'd better eat enough now if we're going to last.'

Ginny hugged her too, whispering in her ear as she did so. 'That dress looks more beautiful now than it ever did. He had good taste.'

Hermione just smiled slightly and filled her plate for breakfast.

Even though the large living room was designed for parties, seven Weasleys plus their families made it seem much smaller. Charlie and Bill were the only two to have children, but four toddlers running around was plenty. Bill and Fleur's eldest, Victoire, was watching Charlie and his wife Mary's twin boys with disdain as they shrieked and hurtled around the tree, and her sister Emmanuelle was copying her, as per usual.

Hermione was on the sofa, happily drinking coffee and chatting with George and Ron. No one could make her laugh like those two. They even managed to make her forget about Draco.

'Hey, my mug's empty. Does anyone want some more tea?' George offered, leaving the sofa. Ron moved over to sit next to Hermione.

'Merry Christmas,' he smiled.

'Merry Christmas,' she returned.

Ron looked at his hands, twisting his thumbs together, and then reached over to take Hermione's. His voice was halting, and he didn't meet her eyes. 'Hermione, I know that it's been a long time since we saw each other, and I know that whatever happened during that time, you don't want to talk about it. But, whatever it was, I hope it wouldn't…' He trailed off, and then tried again. 'What I mean to say is, I hope that some day, perhaps you'll be ready to pick up where we left off?'

Hermione smiled, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. 'I loved you, Ron,' she said quietly. 'I really, really did. And I hate myself because I know that if I hadn't run away I think we might have worked. But I couldn't stay in that life, and I've changed so much since then. I don't think I'm ready for anyone yet, not after those two years and not after Draco.'

Ron looked crestfallen, but nodded. 'When you turned up on Harry's doorstep, you said you didn't want to tell us about it. But what did Draco do, Hermione? What was so terrible that you're still this hurt by it? He's not like he used to be, I work with him everyday. I'm not defending him, deep down I still can't shake the idea that it's _Malfoy_, and I doubt we'll ever be friends. But maybe it's all a misunderstanding?'

Hermione's eyes hardened. 'He knew perfectly well what he was doing, and what it meant to me. And someday I will tell you, because I'm tired of keeping secrets from my best friends. But please, Ron, not today. It's Christmas. I want to eat my weight in turkey and chocolate and open presents and drink you under the table.'

'I'll drink to that!' Ron laughed. 'Just as long as you're ok.'

'I'm fine. I'm wonderful,' Hermione smiled, genuinely.

'Right. Then let's celebrate!'

As far as Hermione was concerned, everything was perfect. She had the biggest pile of presents she could remember, including the obligatory Weasley jumper. It was as if she was a kid again, pulling crackers and playing Twister and beating Harry soundly in a snowball fight in the back garden. Molly trumped herself at dinner, providing not only a turkey big enough for ten people, but also a goose, which Hermione had never tried before. Two plates and a huge slice of Christmas pudding later, she was relaxing in front of the fire, her head in Ron's lap and eggnog in hand, surrounded by comatose Weasleys. Even the children had fallen asleep.

'This is my favourite part of Christmas,' Ginny murmured, and a few sleepy grunts agreed with her.

Suddenly, the fire flared green. They all glanced up, wondering who would be flooing on Christmas Day. Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped into the living room..

'Kingsley!' Harry exclaimed. 'Would you like a mince pie?'

'No time,' Kingsley interrupted. 'There's been an attack. Thirty Death Eaters, in a Muggle village.'

Everyone bolted upright. Fleur and Mary scooped up their children and led them upstairs. Harry gestured for Kingsley to continue.

'It was some sort of traditional gathering, some Pagan tradition or something. I didn't understand. Emergency Response made it in time to prevent any deaths, but four Muggles are currently in St Mungo's and we've had to Obliviate fifty. No one was captured. We need to investigate and arrange a counter attack as soon as possible.'

'When was this?' Harry asked, astounded.

'About an hour ago, 7:32. You're the first to know, this is the first chance we've had to tell anyone.'

'Right, well what can we do?'

'Here's what we know at the moment,' Kingsley said, handing Harry a slim document. 'Draco Malfoy will be here tomorrow to arrange the counter operation.'

'Malfoy?' Hermione asked, a little too quickly.

'Yes, he was the chief Emergency Response Auror. He collated that file. He would be here now, but he's being checked for injuries. I have to go now.' Kingsley paused, softening. 'I'm sorry to bring you news like this, especially today.'

'Don't be,' Ginny comforted. 'We're just so grateful that no one was killed. Are the Muggles going to be ok?'

'St Mungo's hasn't given us a report yet,' Kingsley replied, stepping into the flames and vanishing.

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were seated around the kitchen table, steaming mugs of tea in their hands. None of them spoke – the implications of Kingsley's news were just settling in.

After a long time, Hermione broke the silence. 'Kingsley said that Draco will be coming around tomorrow.'

Harry glanced at Ginny, who nodded encouragingly. 'Yes. If he was the chief E.R.A. then he'll be the best person to plan a counter.'

Hermione breathed out slowly. 'Could I… could I opt out of this?' she asked tentatively.

'Well yeah, technically–' started Ron, but Harry interrupted him.

'No. We need you, Hermione. Look at the file.'

Hermione flicked to the first page. 'Suspected leader: Titus Gormen?'

'Exactly,' Ginny agreed. 'This is the lead you've been waiting for, Hermione! No one knows as much about Gormen as you. We really need you on this.'

Hermione knew that she should help them. She knew that it was silly to refuse to help her friends over some insignificant thing that happened months ago. But it was not insignificant to her, and she could not bring herself to work with Draco. She had accustomed herself to forgetting about him, pushing him from her mind whenever he popped up. Why should she have to endure seeing him again? Why couldn't she be selfish, for just once?

'I know, I know you're right,' she faltered. 'But… to be honest, it's Malfoy. I can't work with him.'

'Hermione, remember what I said earlier,' Ron said. 'What could he possibly have done to offend you to the point of refusing to help your friends on a matter of public and Muggle safety? These are Death Eaters! Please, can't you put your pride away for one minute?'

'Well there's no need to have a go at me,' Hermione huffed. 'You know, Ron, when I turned up on this doorstep and asked to stay, you said – you all said – that you would respect the fact that I don't want to tell you everything. Why would you go back on that?'

Harry quickly reached his hand out to hers, seeing she was near tears. 'Of course we respect your wishes, and we're not asking you to tell us anything. But we need to work with Draco on this. Ron's right, if blunt.' Ron looked abashed. 'Your pride is getting in the way of you moving on.'

There was a long pause, before Ginny spoke, calmly and quietly. 'I think you should tell them, Hermione. They're not going to stop until they know. And maybe it's time you told them, it'll help all of us.'

Hermione sighed. 'Fine. I guess if Ginny knows, you may as well too. I'll start from the beginning, so you're not too shocked when I get to the real point of all of this.'

'After school, everything was wonderful. Voldemort was dead, we had graduated properly, people were getting their lives back on track, we were all generally celebrating. After two years, I realised I wanted normality and real job. As you know, I applied for a job at the Ministry, and I worked there for three months. Then I quit, but not for the reasons I gave you. Everyone resented me there. I wasn't just being paranoid. They were furious that the Ministry had been wrong, and three teenagers had done their job better than they had. All my colleagues thought that the only reason I had my job was because of my connections with Harry. I couldn't stand it. I looked all over for a job that would employ me for _me, _but they all wanted the privilege of having Harry's right-hand lady on their workforce. Oh no, I don't resent you at all!' she said hurriedly, seeing the look in Harry's eyes. 'It was understandable of them, and I really honestly never resented you for it. I was just getting really sick of the Wizarding world in general, so I started going to the Muggle world more often. I got a flat in Muggle London, and found a job in a bookstore. And I didn't contact any of you, I made my flat Unplottable, and I gave up magic entirely. I was sick of it. And I knew you might be worried, but I figured you'd realise I'm able to take care of myself. I was 21, after all.

'It was at the bookstore that I met Malcolm. He was the manager. He was funny and confident and charming and, best of all, he didn't know anything about my background. I moved in with him, and for three months everything was wonderful. I almost forgot about magic entirely. I would go for days without even thinking 'Colloportus' at the bathroom door, or 'Evanesco' if I spilled the milk.

'But after almost two years, I had to move out. I had nowhere to go. So I… I went to a place I had heard about, from a war victim. She said she lived there, and even if it wasn't ideal, at least it was a roof over her head and it was cheap. I found it, one year and one month ago. I stayed there until Draco found me while looking for someone else, and he took me back to his apartment. Together with Ginny, we found the person he was actually looking for. And Draco and I… he said…' Hermione had to take a deep breath to continue. 'We became friends, and then he kissed me. And it wasn't what he said, but more what he implied, that if I were ever ready, he would be there for me. But I said I wasn't, and two hours later I walked in on him and that girl, together, and I left. I couldn't take it.'

Ginny hugged her friend tightly as Hermione's tears began to flow. Harry and Ron looked concerned, but also confused.

Harry spoke first. 'Where was this place, where you stayed? Who was Draco looking for?'

Hermione could only shake her head into Ginny's shoulder, so Ginny spoke for her. 'Hermione was in a brothel.'

The two men gasped, and Ron swore violently, looking to Hermione for confirmation. 'You what?'

Hermione silently nodded.

'Why the fuck were you in a brothel?' He shouted. 'What the hell were you thinking? You said you had nowhere to go, the fuck you did! We were here all the time, what about us? We're more than your friends, we're your family, and you go and spend months selling yourself to scum?'

Hermione was completely taken aback at Ron's anger, and sat up suddenly. She didn't notice that Ginny was motioning for Harry to leave with her, or that her other best friend shot several worried glances at the two of them as he retreated. 'I really did have nowhere to go. And I'm sorry I can't tell you why. Things didn't work out with Malcolm, and I'm still trying to come to terms with that. I was left in the Muggle world, and I don't know if you know what happens when a witch or wizard doesn't use magic for a long time, but let me tell you. I lost it. I could barely levitate anything, my Lumos was weaker than it had ever been, and forget about defensive spells. In the end I broke my wand. Because then there would be a reason why I couldn't perform magic. And I went to the brothel.'

Ron was still angry. 'I can't believe that you think so little of us that, whatever it was, you couldn't trust us to welcome you back and love you and tell you that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter Hermione! Whatever the reason was for you going there, it wasn't good enough!'

'Please Ron, I need you to help me on this. I need you to understand that I'm not ready to tell you everything, and that at the time I honestly was doing what I thought was best for me and… for everyone. I look back on it now and I hate myself for thinking it was an adequate alternative, but it's done. Even if I do regret it. Please don't make me drag it back up again, I've had enough of telling myself I did the wrong thing. I know I did. I don't need you telling me that as well.'

Ron's anger melted at the look on Hermione's face. A tear was rolling down her cheek, and her eyes remained fixed on her lap. Silently he reached over and took her hand. 'I'm sorry. I sorry I reacted like that. But Hermione, I can't accept the idea that you willingly went to a… a place like that. What happened, that made you give up on us? Because you lost your magic?'

Hermione shook her head. 'I was ashamed of that, yes. But that wasn't the whole reason. Please don't ask me to tell you, I have to say no.' She looked up and met his eyes. They were burning with an emotion she had never seen there before – desperation and pity and the most powerful love she had ever seen. 'You…' she whispered, but something in her own face must have given her away because Ron leaned over and kissed her. Just like that.

He was gentle, at first, but as he deepened the kiss she was powerless to resist. Her mind was screaming no, and she tried to push him away, but she was too weak. Seconds past, seeming like hours. Ron broke away, and held her face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes.

'You need love, don't you?' he asked. 'Let me love you, Hermione.'

'Ron, please don't do that again.' She took his hands and lifted them away from her.

Ron looked confused. 'Hermione, it's obvious that you need someone to love you, after all that time. I don't know who this Malcolm guy is, or what he did, but you need the type of love that only I can give you. You know it in your heart.'

'Who are you to tell me what I know?' Hermione stood up swiftly. 'Maybe what I need most right now is some time to myself. Some space without having to share a single bed with three other girls, or a lecherous old man. Some time to think about what I want to do now I have to rebuild my life again. What about that?' she challenged, as she swept out of the kitchen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Another chapter for you all, more action here and I hope you enjoy it! And I'm sorry in advance for the cliffhanger.**

**DISCLAIMER: Copyright other people, not me.**

'What are you going to do?' Ginny asked. She was perched on the end of Hermione's bed, offering her a cup of hot chocolate.

'I'm going to behave perfectly decently, and he's going to realise that nothing is going happen,' Hermione replied primly.

'Nothing did happen,' Ginny said bluntly. Hermione looked at her questioningly. Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Come on, Hermione. I've talked to you both. You both admit that it was just a kiss, and that there was no emotion on his part. It's been months. Can't you forgive him, even as a friend?'

Hermione rolled over on her pillow. 'It's not the kiss itself. It's that he allowed it to happen. Right after saying that he wanted a future with me.'

'He couldn't exactly have stopped it happening, from all accounts. She jumped him. She's the one you should be worried about. Why did she even want revenge on you in the first place?'

Hermione rolled back over and stared at the ceiling. 'Oh, I don't know. I'm past caring. About both of them.'

'Stop that!' Ginny chided. 'As soon as you're past caring, that's the end of it. You need to keep caring, Hermione, it's what makes you you. Don't let yourself turn numb. There's no returning once you do.'

'I've wanted to feel for so long,' Hermione admitted. 'I told him so. But I forgot that feeling felt so terrible. Now I want to be numb again.'

'What if you allowed yourself to feel something wonderful?'

Ginny left the room, leaving Hermione alone with her very busy thoughts.

One hour later she was sitting at the dining room table, dressed comfortably in jeans and her new Weasley jumper, the green H splashed proudly across her chest. This room was rarely used for eating – everyone preferred the cosiness of the kitchen – but it served well for meetings. Its heavy velvet curtains, dark wallpaper and glinting chandelier added sobriety to the occasion. Draco was due in twenty minutes, and she was preparing by leafing through Kingsley's file.

_**Criminal Profile:**__ Titus Gormen_

_**Blood Status: **__Pure_

_**History:**__ Little known. Parents Purebloods, deceased, found during Limpitas V. Hogwarts 1992-1998 – did not return for 7__th __year. Did not graduate. Certified Missing Without Cause in November 1999. Last confirmed sighting: May 2001. Source: Confidential but Certified. _

_**Death Eater involvement:**__ Certified. Suspected leader of the recent attack on Muggle village Lower Harfeld, 25__th__ December 2004. _

Nothing that she did not know already. Gormen's file was pitifully slim, but she had one clue. She needed to find the person who saw him last.

She heard the door open behind her and looked round. Malfoy was standing in the doorway, one hand in his trouser pocket, the other resting casually on the doorframe. _Why is he so relaxed?_ Hermione asked herself, _when I'm so completely on edge?_ 'You're early,' she commented.

'Hello,' he replied. He wanted to smile, but he did not know how she would react. Was it still too soon?

Hermione turned her eyes resolutely to the file in front of her. 'Hi. Does Harry know you're here yet?'

'Of course he does, he let me in,' Malfoy said, as if it were obvious. He approached the table and sat down opposite her. She did not speak, so he ploughed ahead. 'Are you still angry at me?'

'I've been looking through the file on Gormen, but there's not much I can glean from it,' she replied, ignoring him completely.

'Hermione, give me an answer.'

Hermione looked up at him. He seemed genuinely worried, but she did not want to talk about this, not now. 'Harry said you were here to help on the Gormen case. Please, can we just do that? This is the first time I've seen you in three months, and I'm not ready to have a good old heart-to-heart yet.'

'No time like the present,' Draco argued nonchalantly.

'I'm angry,' Hermione hissed. 'If you get me riled up, I'll probably hit you. Let me get used to seeing you first, and I'll talk to you later.'

It was a logical reply. Draco nodded slowly. 'Fine. You can probably pack quite a punch, so for the sake of my well-being, let's discuss Death Eaters.'

Hermione rolled his eyes at his attitude, but she was glad he had agreed.

'Right. Let's start again. What do you know already, and what do I have to fill you in on?' Draco asked.

'I know everything in here,' she answered, pushing the file towards him. 'But I still don't understand why you think he was the leader of the attack.'

'Because they sent me to manage it,' Draco replied simply.

'What? So, you haven't seen him yourself?'

'No, by the time I got there he had long gone. But I assume that someone saw him because it was me Shacklebolt interrupted during my nice cosy Christmas dinner to go out into a cold battlefield and look for clues.'

'I don't get it, why–'

Draco sighed. 'You are slow, aren't you? I'm the lead Auror on Gormen. Have been ever since Caster's information. That's why I was there, six weeks ago.'

Hermione looked at the table. 'I knew I'd seen you. I tried to go after you but you Disapparated.'

'I thought I could track him, but I lost him. Sorry.'

Hermione shook her head jerkily, and took a deep breath. 'Ok, so. You're the lead Auror on Gormen. That means I'll have to be working with you a lot more if I'm ever going to get peace from my friends. They seem to think it's my life's work trying to bring down this guy I know barely anything about, when I'd much rather be doing something else.'

'You don't want to work on Gormen?' Draco was mildly surprised.

'No. It doesn't make sense. I've spent every day on him since… since I came here, and still the biggest clue we have is _Tempus Fugit, _which is complete nonsense. You don't seem to have anything either. He's just some crazy killer and the only thing we can do is hope somebody gets him next time he attacks anywhere,' she groaned, frustrated.

'_Tempus Fugit_? Don't you know?' Draco asked, now really surprised.

'Know what?' Hermione snapped.

'That's the motto of the organisation he heads up. It's an international ring of illicit potions traders.'

'And why was that not in the file?' Draco shrugged. Hermione almost cried out in frustration. 'See? This is why I don't want to work with this guy. Other people have already figured everything out. All I'm doing is stressing over stuff I can't figure out because I haven't got the resources. No one ever tells me anything, and why should they, because I'm not even employed to the Ministry. It's just something Harry is getting me to do to keep my mind off things, because they all think I'm still hung up on you!'

Draco was completely taken aback by her outburst. 'I…' He paused. He knew there were so many better things to ask, but he had to take hold of the one that mattered most to him. He was selfish that way. 'But are you? Still hung up on me?'

Hermione blushed deeply. She hadn't meant to let that part slip. 'No, I… There are just so many things I've wanted to say to you, but I haven't had the chance. Where have you been?'

'Working. Say them now.' Draco held his breath, willing this to be the moment he had both anticipated and avoided ever since that morning on his living room carpet.

Hermione took a deep breath, and let it out again. 'I'm sorry for what I said. I was in shock, and my temper took over. I completely over-reacted, but at the time I honestly thought it was true. I was so hurt, you really did take away any though I had of rebuilding a future. Since coming here I've realised that I still have a hope, even if it's a different one to my original one.

'What was your original hope?' He hardly dared to hope himself.

'That we could make something of our relationship. That out of all the things I'd suffered, and all the bad memories from school, we could still draw some good out of knowing each other, and turn a horrible thing around.'

'I wanted that too. But as long as you refuse to let others near you, we can't.' It took all of Draco's effort not to just accept her unconditionally and kiss her right there and then, but he had to know first. 'Why won't you let yourself get close to anyone? I appreciate that you needed time. But you were that quick to throw me off.'

There was no malice in his tone, he simply wanted to know. So she decided to tell him. 'Because…' Hermione paused before continuing. 'You know everything else, you may as well know this. Like I told you, I got sick of living off Harry's fame. I went to live in Muggle London, and I moved in with a man called Malcolm. I hid my magic from him, and after two years I almost couldn't do anything at all. So when I had to leave, I didn't have any other option than to go to Moreau's, which cured me of any notion I had of real love. All people did there was hurt me.' She was almost proud of herself for facing up to her past so bluntly, but Malfoy did not seem impressed.

'Why couldn't you go back to your family, or Harry and Ron? You said that was your deepest secret that nobody knows. If we're going to get anywhere, I need to understand you.'

For some reason, those words made Hermione snap. She was sick of all the questions, all the interrogations, from everyone. Draco Malfoy just happened to be the last straw. 'I also told you that it was going to stay that way. It's in my past now, can't we just get on with the future?'

'How can we if you won't trust me enough to tell me what is obviously the greatest pain in your whole life?' Draco countered.

'I can barely admit it to myself yet! I did a horrible, horrible thing, and no one will accept me when they know!' cried Hermione.

'I will accept you no matter what, I promise you, as long as you come back. Do you know how hard it's been, not knowing how you were, after all I did to bring you back?'

'Oh, I'm sorry, yes, you were so heroic weren't you?' she said sarcastically. 'I'm sure the pain of separation ripped you apart. But after all, you didn't have to go far for comfort.'

Draco ran his hands through his hair in frustration. 'She left three hours after you did, and I haven't seen her since.'

Hermione tossed her hair and looked the other way, crossing her arms, and made a noise which implied that she was far from believing him. It sounded something like 'tchupsshguhh.'

Draco forced himself to stay calm, but his voice trembled with anger. 'It was a single kiss, initiated by her, and I took no pleasure in it. In fact, I found it repulsive. You know that. I bet you're just trying to pin this on me as an excuse for your complete overreaction!' Hermione tried to interrupt, but Draco continued. 'So whatever it is that's making you act this way, whatever caused your complete loss of faith in the human race, tell me. If I don't know, I can't do anything about it. And I want to help you, as much as I did on the day I found you. More.' He paused, battling with himself over whether to explain further, whether he should tell her everything. He went for it. 'Because in those few days you were with me, my life changed. You let me in to your life unconditionally, forgiving every stupid horrible thing I ever did in school. We were friends. And you know I wanted more.' His voice was barely more than a cracked whisper now, as he took Hermione's hand in his and stroked her tearstained cheek. 'But whatever it is you're not telling me is standing between us. I want you to feel comfortable with me, but that can't happen until you learn to let people into your life again.'

She placed her free hand over his, resting on her cheek. Leaning into his touch, she closed her eyes. She suddenly felt so tired, physically and emotionally. Her lips parted slightly and Draco swallowed, longing to meet them with his, longing to kiss her tears away. He ran his callused thumb over the smooth skin of her lower lip. She breathed out slowly, emitting four words he almost did not hear. But he did hear, and his hand fell away from her face abruptly as he stared at her, wide-eyed, expression unreadable.

'I killed my baby.'

It was almost careless, that quiet utterance, tinged with the feeling of relief and futility that swept through Hermione as she realised that all she wanted was to give up, and let someone else worry about her problems for once.


	10. Chapter 10

**So here's the result of the cliffhanger. Thank you so much, last chapter had such a wonderful response! I was feeling a bit down after chapter 8, but you guys have restored my faith in the FFN community :) I'm sorry this is so short, but I've been crazy busy and haven't had time to write my usual. But I thought you would rather have this now (a little early, what a treat!) than have to wait another two weekends, because I'm going away so you may not get any more until early July. But don't lose heart! It'll get there eventually. **

**DISCLAIMER: Still not mine. I'm getting tired of waiting, really. **

'You're going to have to elaborate, I think,' Draco managed to say after a long silence.

'Could you get me some more tea first?' Hermione offered her cup to him.

'Sure.' Taking the mug, Draco left the room, shutting the door behind him. Letting out a breath he had not realised he was holding, he leaned back against the closed door and sunk to the ground. He was usually able to keep control over his thoughts, but now they were assaulting his mind rapidly, all jumbled together at once, with the knowledge that there had to be some rational explanation for this eclipsed by his conflicting emotions of pity and horror.

_She killed her baby_. There are all sorts of explanations for that, he reasoned. It doesn't mean she gave birth to a living human being and then slaughtered it in cold blood. He knew that was not – could not – be true, Hermione Granger was characteristically incapable of harming others. It had to be some unavoidable failing on the part of her body which she blamed herself for – a miscarriage, or something. Draco did not know how the female body worked – at least, not when it came to pregnancy – but he was pretty sure that stuff like that was not unusual, and never the fault of the mother. He sighed and let his head drop to his chest, whereupon he caught sight of the forgotten mug. He rose slowly and wandered down to the kitchen to refill her tea, thanking every belief system he knew of that it was empty. He could barely deal with himself right now, other people would be completely beyond his spectrum of manageability.

He returned to the dining room, not bothering to knock. Hermione was in the same position he had left her in, the same position she was in at his kitchen table, that fateful day all those weeks ago. He placed her tea in front of her. 'Talk?'

'I wrote it down for you, while you were out,' she replied tonelessly. 'Take it and read it somewhere else. I don't want to be around while you do.'

Draco noticed a sheet of paper, covered on both sides with tight writing, resting by her elbow. 'I was only gone for fifteen minutes.'

She gave a non-committal shrug. Draco thought it was better to say nothing, so he picked up the sheet. The writing was messier than he would have expected from one such as herself, but he supposed she was writing very quickly, if she had managed this much so quickly. 'I'll read it in the kitchen.'

'I'll be in my room,' she replied, not looking at him.

He took the sheet of paper and left her as he had before, to go to the kitchen and read.

It was still blessedly empty when he got there. He thought about making himself a cup of coffee, but only briefly. He knew he was just trying to postpone the inevitable. So he sat down at the table and read.

_I met Malcolm in the Muggle bookstore where I worked. I was already living in Muggle London then, but I didn't detach completely from the Wizarding world until a year later, when I moved in with him. He never knew I was a witch. Everything was blissful for almost two years, but then I fell pregnant. I thought he would be happy. I told him we were going to have a baby, but he was angry. Really angry. He said that if I wanted to stay with him, I had to have an abortion. I refused – I asked him how he expected me to kill our child – but it made no difference to him. He threw me out, and I had nowhere to go, I hadn't been in touch with anyone for two years. So I lied, I went back to him saying I had had an abortion, but he was with another woman. I was disgusted that his spawn was festering inside of me. I hated it. So I did it. I had an abortion for real. And afterwards the only place I could think of to go to was Madam Moreau's. Malcolm liked fucking me, I thought it was the only thing I could do right. Besides, when they found out the truth, all my friends and my family would have hated me. I hated me. I killed a human being. And that's that. If you know you can deal with this, talk to me. If you think you can't, leave, so I never have to face you again._

Draco read it three times over, and then leaned back in his chair. The letter – for want of a better word – was brief, and although it answered all his previous questions, it raised a lot more. He knew he had to speak to Hermione straight away. On his way to the stairs he passed the open door to the living room. He did not look in, but a voice called him back.

'Malfoy, where are you going?'

He turned round to see Potter in the doorframe. 'To see Hermione,' he replied.

'Have you finished? Is something wrong?' Harry was concerned. Draco was wearing an expression he had never seen before – his eyes were fixed on a point somewhere over Harry's left shoulder, and his eyes were turbulent. A small frown was embedded in his forehead, and he was gripping a crumpled piece of paper so tightly that his knuckles shone white.

'I'm going to see Hermione,' Draco repeated, turning away from Harry and heading up the stairs.

'Wait-' Harry started, but Draco ignored him and continued up the stairs. Harry, worried, followed after.

Draco halted at the sound of his footsteps on the bottom stair and without turning round, addressed his old rival coldly. 'Take one more step, Potter, and I will make sure that you will never take another.'

Harry froze, taken aback, before retreating slowly into the living room once more.

Draco continued unimpeded up the staircase, one hand trailing absently on the stair rail, the other still tightly clutching the letter.

Questions were pounding through his head, but one above all others. _If you know you can deal with this, talk to me. If you think you can't, leave, so I never have to face you again. _How could he not deal with this? How could he give up the wonder of seeing her? The answer to that was simple at least. Since those brief days that they had been together, he had realised that he liked having her around. He liked watching her read, the way her toes curled together whenever she got to an exciting part, the way she sometimes mouthed bits silently, the way her neck curved as she leant her head against the back of the sofa. In those few short days he had noticed a myriad of new little things that he had swiftly grown to love – her humming in the shower, making coffee for two, how adorable she looked, half asleep in an old shirt of his, her little frown when she was confused, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating. He had never noticed these things in anyone else before, and the sudden intensity of this feeling was bewildering at first. It had taken him a while to figure out what it meant, and then a little while more to build up the courage to act on it. And only a couple of minutes to ruin it all.

Her departure provided him with all the answers he needed. He probably _could_ accept the prospect of never seeing her again. He was not that far gone yet. He hardly knew Hermione, not properly. A day had not passed since she left that he had not thought of her. But he was pretty sure that would fade in time, if he were patient. However, the overriding truth was this: he did not want to give up on her. What Draco Malfoy wanted right that moment, more than anything, was to be with Hermione Granger. To see her every day, to make her coffee, or pasta, or anything else she wanted, to buy her clothes that matched her eyes, to hear her hum in the shower, to see her toothbrush next to his…

He was not sure if this was love. Even if it were, he would not admit to it. Not yet. But still that one truth remained: he wanted her. And what a Malfoy wants, a Malfoy gets.


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm sorry for the last chapter being so short, and the delay in this one, but I've been up north looking after a group of 13 year olds on a school trip without access to a computer, and I was too busy to write so I've churned this out today. It would be longer but there's a change in tone for the next chapter, hopefully lighter and perhaps fluffier, but I'm nervous because I've never written proper romance before, so I need your help and responses more than ever! Thank you!**

**DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to JKR.**

He reached Hermione's door – simple wood with a brass plaque bearing her name. It looked almost like an office door. He pushed it open silently, and was greeted with the sight of her beautiful self sitting in a squashy purple chair directly opposite him. To his left stood a large brass bed, and to his right a similarly large wardrobe. The furniture seemed awkward and cumbersome in this tiny little room, lit only by a generous window behind where Hermione was sitting. The position of the chair was obviously designed to have maximum reading practicality, but at that moment Draco couldn't give two figs about the logistics of the room's arrangement. All he cared about was its owner. He reached the chair in three long strides and stood before her. Finding that he felt too imposing in this position, he crouched down. Hermione was looking down at him now but only slightly, their difference in height evening the gap between them.

'What do you think?' she asked in a small voice.

She had been waiting for what seemed like hours for the face she wanted to see more than any other. In the aftermath of presenting him with the letter, she realised how much more she wanted to say, and how stupid it was of her to offer him such an easy way out of this. _If he takes it it's my own damn fault_, she thought. _It's my own fault if he gets away scot-free while I have to suffer the rejection a second time over. _But that train of thought sped away into the distance faster than the Firebolt 2.0 the instant she saw his shadow appear under the crack in her door, and his face in front of her, and his eyes locked on hers.

'I _know_,' Draco replied, stressing the word to prevent any confusion, 'that I can deal with this. It's not something I have ever had to do before, and I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I know I will because I want to so badly.'

Hermione eyes filled with tears, but she remained seated just as before. 'That's the most amazing thing I've heard in a long time,' she smiled. 'So do you forgive me?'

'For what?'

'For everything I just admitted to in that letter. Killing my baby and leaving home and selling my body.'

'It's not within my power to forgive you for that,' Draco said slowly. 'You don't need my forgiveness for those things, they really have nothing to do with me. It may sound old, but you have to forgive yourself.'

'That's what I've been telling myself, but I don't think I can yet,' admitted Hermione. 'Not on my own, while I'm living with the regret of it.' She breathed in deeply, trying to hold back tears. 'I keep wondering, what it would have been like. The baby, I mean. I didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl. I will never meet it, I'll never be able to tell it why I killed it. It could have grown up and changed the world.' She buried her head in her hands and sobbed.

Draco saw the warning signs of hysteria coming on, and got up quickly. He took her hand and drew her up out of the chair, sitting himself down and placing her gently on his lap. She curled into his shoulder, still sobbing, and he could do nothing but hold her.

They sat like that for a long time, until Hermione's tears had dried up and she was no longer heaving dry sobs. Draco tilted her chin up gently and looked into her eyes. 'Hermione, I promise to you with everything I have that you will forgive yourself. You cannot because of your regret, but I will make you forget every ounce of regret you feel. And even if you don't want to take our relationship further, I will do everything I can as your friend to help you move on from this.'

Hermione did not dare to believe what she was hearing. Draco had pinned down the exact root of her problem, and the way she wanted most to solve it. 'That's exactly what I want,' she whispered.

Her eyes flicked down to his lips, and he noticed it. She raised her hand to cup his neck, and brought her lips to his. He closed his eyes, not daring to move, just concentrating on the kiss while lasted, drinking in its sweetness, the softness of her lips on his. She withdrew too soon, and his eyes flew open.

'I'll ask you for a second time,' he said. 'Are you ready?'

Hermione smiled – a smile that made his heart melt, while simultaneously beating a mile a minute. 'Yes,' she said.

He threw his arms around her and they sat there for countless minutes, her head in the crook of his neck, his hand stroking her hair. Hermione's senses were assaulted from all sides, the sound of his breath, the smell of his skin, the throb of his speeding pulse in his neck, and she knew with more conviction than she had ever known before, that this was the right thing to do. For the first time in many years, Hermione had made the right decision.

'Let's go on a date,' Hermione suggested suddenly. She and Draco were still in The Chair, which had become so significant in their relationship that they had decided it needed capital letters. Draco had wanted to give it a name, but Hermione had insisted that was taking sentimentality to an anthropomorphic extreme.

'Where?'

'Don't ask me, it's the man's job to surprise the woman.'

Draco raised his eyebrows. 'Since you're asking me out, shouldn't it be you who decides?'

'I suppose. But it's very forward of me, asking you out,' Hermione replied.

'You hussy,' laughed Draco. 'So where are you going to take me?'

'How many Muggle things have you done? Do you want to see a movie?' she offered.

'Movie. Hmm. I'd rather take you shopping,' Draco countered.

'But _I'm_ asking _you_ out. Take me shopping some other time.'

'Wait. You're actually refusing the chance to be spoiled rotten with new stuff at someone else's expense?'

Hermione blushed. 'I'm still not used to spending money. It's only just been Christmas, I have enough new things.'

Draco hugged her. 'Frankly, my dear, that's adorable. But as you say, Christmas has come and gone and I haven't got you a present yet. So that has decided things. Diagon Alley it is.'

'Ok,' Hermione smiled. 'Let me get ready, I'll be five minutes.' She pushed him out the door, ignoring his insistences that she looked quite beautiful enough for him (which made her blush), and that he did not want every man they passed to stare at her like some lech (which made her swat him around the head), and changed from her jeans and new Weasley Christmas jumper into Draco's Dress (also worthy of capitals in her mind). She threw on his coat as well, and pocketing her wand and purse she joined him in the corridor.

'You don't have a handbag?' Draco asked upon seeing her.

Hermione just shrugged. 'No comment on the dress then?'

Draco looked down. 'I'm still trying to come up with something that isn't either too cheesy or too insincere. I'm somewhere in between 'you're more beautiful every time I see you' and 'where the hell did you get that body?'

Hermione laughed and took his arm. 'Both will do. When did you get so honest?'

'It's not my fault if you're so damn pretty I can't construct cohesive lies,' Draco pouted.

Together they walked arm-in-arm down the stairs, stopping outside the living room door. 'I'll tell Harry we're off,' Hermione said.

She pushed the door open and saw Harry and Ginny on the sofa, reading. Ginny was stretched out between Harry's legs, leaning on his chest, and he was holding the book so they could both see the pages. Their eyes were moving in unison. Everything about them displayed total relaxation in each others' company, and Hermione was flooded with an unbearably joyous warmth at the thought that she now had the chance to be like that with someone too. She coughed slightly and they turned to look at her.

'Hi Hermione,' Harry smiled, slightly too carelessly. 'Did you talk with Malfoy?'

Hermione clasped her hands and smiled at the floor. 'Yes. We're going to Diagon Alley for the afternoon. What's left of it,' she added, blushing slightly.

Ginny picked up on this. 'So you've worked things out?' Hermione nodded. 'That's great!' Ginny smiled genuinely. 'Have fun, you really deserve it. Will you be back for dinner?'

'I doubt it. But I'll be back this evening!' she added hurriedly, seeing the spark in Ginny's eyes. She turned away quickly and hurried out the door to see Draco standing so close she was sure he had been listening.

'Not if I have anything to do with it,' he grinned.

'If you mean what I think I mean, please don't think that anymore,' she said hastily, not meeting his eyes. She pulled him a little further away from the door. 'I guess this is something we should talk about sooner or later, even if it is embarrassing for me. I won't be ready to sleep with you probably for a long time, and if that's going to be a problem then we shouldn't let this continue any further.'

Draco reached up and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, tracing his finger down her jawline. 'I'm sorry,' he said, and in his eyes she could see that he was. 'I will wait for as long as it takes.'

'I know,' she replied. 'And it won't be forever.'

'It better not be, if you keep wearing that dress I don't think I'll be able to keep any promises,' he grinned.

Hermione wrapped her coat more tightly around her and walked to the front door, but Draco knew that she had not been offended by his flippant remark. Together they Apparated from the front step to Diagon Alley.


	12. Chapter 12

**If you're still with me, thank you. I know it's been a really long time, but I've been having a bit of writer's block. I'm not entirely sure where this story is going at the moment, and I'm not very good at writing filler stuff but I thought it needed a break from all the tension.**

**Disclaimer: still copyright JKR etc.  
**

The streets were bustling with the usual after-work crowds when they arrived on the gleaming marble steps of Gringott's.

'I need to get some money out,' Hermione said.

'No you don't,' insisted Draco.

'I do!' Hermione countered. 'By your own admission. I tried to give you money for clothes when I first arrived in your apartment, but you said no because I had to save the money to buy something I want.'

'You have a good memory, I'll give you that, but haven't you bought enough yourself already?'

'Only books I needed for my research,' she admitted. 'Please, I'll be happier with my own money in my purse.'

Draco sighed and taking her hand led her up the steps. They entered through the imposing doors and approached a free goblin.

'We would like to withdraw money from two vaults please,' Draco said.

'Key,' replied the goblin brusquely.

Hermione her tiny golden key and turned to Draco.

'My vault doesn't have a key,' he said, answering her unspoken question.

The goblin behind the desk gestured to another to come and take them to their vaults.

'This way please,' said the new goblin, not mentioning his name. 'Which vault first?'

'418,' said Draco immediately, 'the lady's.'

They climbed into the rickety cart – probably held together more by magic than nails at this point – and set off on a rollercoaster downwards to the vaults. Their speed forced Hermione to lean back into Draco's chest, and he held her comfortingly around her waist.

'When was the last time you came here?' he whispered.

'I don't know for sure, a couple of years,' she replied. 'I'd forgotten how rough it was, but it's exciting anyway.' Draco smiled.

After about ten minutes they reached Hermione's vault – one of the regular customer ones. The goblin took out her key and opened the door for them. Draco peered round Hermione's shoulder as she entered, not wanting to seem too curious, but gasped at what he saw.

'Merlin, Granger, what has the Ministry been paying you?'

Hermione turned and scowled at him. 'They're not paying me anything, you should know that.'

'Well this settles it, I'm not letting you pay for anything when you only have about 5 Knuts.'

'Oh for heaven's sakes, there are galleons there too,' Hermione cried, exasperated. 'There's nothing wrong with being poor.'

'Yeah, but you're destitute,' Draco countered. The goblin was resolutely looking the other way, trying not to snigger, but neither of them noticed him. 'Get back in the cart, we're going to my vault.'

'It's a matter of pride, Malfoy, let me do this,' spat Hermione, taking the remaining money from her vault – a total of eight Galleons, 12 Sickles and five Knuts.

Draco rolled his eyes and offered his hand to help her back into the cart, but she ignored it. 'Pride is a deadly sin,' he whispered.

'And pettiness should be,' Hermione whispered back, smirking. 'I have to spend this money eventually, why not now? It's not exactly enough to be worth saving.'

They sped on, further downwards, for much longer this time. The air became colder and damper, and the torches were more spaced out so the cart sped through pitch-dark shadows between each burst of light. Suddenly the ceiling of the tunnel flew upwards and they emerged into a massive cavern, heading straight for a waterfall. Hermione gasped, realising where they were, as they sped through the waterfall with no ill effects – they did not even get wet. The cart abruptly stopped before a door of stone, barely distinguishable from the cliff-face it was embedded in.

The nameless goblin stepped forward and stroked the door with his index finger, and it slid to the side.

'I should have realised your vault was here,' Hermione whispered. Draco only grinned and stepped forward, taking her by the hand and leading her into the vault.

It was as full as the Lestranges' had been, piled high with jewels, trinkets, goblets, plates and coins – hundreds upon hundreds of coins. Hermione stopped and stared as Draco let go of her hand, his grin broadening in sight of her reaction.

'If you see any jewellery you like, take it,' Draco said over his shoulder as he gathered up Galleons and Sickles into his moneybag.

'Oh no, I couldn't possibly,' she replied. Her gaze fell on a gold chain the size of a mayor's necklace, set with rubies and onyx stones the size of duck eggs and her thoughts were confirmed. 'It's all far too ostentatious for me.'

'Of course it is, I'm just trying to get rid of it somehow,' Draco replied. 'I know none of this ghastly junk would appeal to you.'

'Can't you sell it?'

'Nah, irreversible Possession Charms. Anyone I sold it to would soon wish they'd never bought it. It's a further protection against thieves. Let's get out of here,' he said, straightening up and leading Hermione out of the vault. He noticed her gaze linger on one particular object and he followed her eyes to the shelf where it lay. He was taken aback that she would notice such a tiny thing, dull compared to all the rest, but it was so typical of her. He could see in her eyes that she had fallen in love instantly, and an idea popped into his head so suddenly he shoved it out again, refusing to dare to entertain such thoughts. He pulled her out quickly, and they zoomed back up to the surface.

Fifteen minutes later found them sitting inside Florian Fortescue's – now fully restored and reopened after Florian's regained freedom – drinking hot chocolate. Hermione was grilling Draco on his vault.

'Do you have curses on the stuff like the Lestranges did?'

'Like I said, the Possession Charms remain. But I removed the Flagrante and Gemino curses. They were pointless,' Draco replied. 'Only you three were crazy enough to actually consider robbing this place when there are plenty of lower-security vaults with about as much useable wealth.'

'So you know about that.' Hermione laughed. 'It was about the craziest thing we did that whole crazy year.'

'What were you looking for?' Draco asked. He had never found out the specifics. He only heard through word of mouth – his aunt had been killed before he could ask her about it, and thinking back he thought he would not have cared enough to do that anyway.

'Nothing of particular monetary value,' Hermione evaded. 'How much has Harry told you about what we had to do to overthrow Voldemort?'

'Not much. Something about finding his soul.'

'Ask him about Horcruxes.'

Draco gasped. 'He had a Horcrux? That explains a lot.'

'You know about Horcruxes?' Hermione was astounded.

'Of course I do. I read, you know.'

'But where would you get hold of books like that?'

Draco raised his eyebrows at her. 'What sort of library do you think someone like my father kept?' Hermione nodded in acknowledgement. 'What was the Horcrux then?'

Hermione hesitated, looking at the table. 'He had more than one. But I don't want to talk about that now.'

'More than one?' He stopped at the look on Hermione's face, and smiled gently. 'Fine, I'll ask Potter later.'

There followed a silence, but Hermione was surprised to find that it was not awkward at all. She found that she liked it, just being here in his presence, even if he had awakened some memories she would like to keep out right now. Not to forget, she never wanted to forget a single thing about that seventh year. It made her who she was.

'Knut for them.' Draco's voice broke through.

'Can you ever keep quiet for more than two minutes?' she laughed.

'I just love the sound of my own voice,' he replied, smiling wryly.

'After seeing a very visual report of the state of my finances, you should be offering me two Knuts at least.'

Draco reached into his pocket, pulled out two of the small bronze coins and started flicking them over in his palm. 'You drive a hard bargain. I'm not sure if your thoughts are worth a whole two Knuts. Tell me first, then I'll decide.'

'Nuh-uh. Where's the fairness in that? I have very interesting thoughts, cheap at twice the price.'

'You're just stalling. You've probably forgotten what you were thinking anyway.'

Hermione paused thoughtfully. In truth, she did not want to tell Draco exactly what she had been thinking, because at this point it would be a bit of a let down after all this crazy build-up.

'I was thinking about how I haven't been to a concert in the longest time.'

'Ha! You're clearly just trying to get me to take you out.'

'And what if I am? I want to go to a concert.'

'By who, exactly?'

'I don't know, who's on?'

'As if I know.' Draco signalled a passing waiter. 'My friend here would like to go to a concert. Do you happen to know anyone who is playing soon?'

The waiter looked confused. 'Playing where, sir?'

'Oh, anywhere.'

'I can get you a pamphlet, sir.'

'A pamphlet! Wonderful!' Draco cried eagerly

Hermione sat with her hand over her eyes, avoiding the waiter's eyes. He left and Draco pulled her hand away.

'Did I embarrass you?'

'I wasn't embarrassed, I was embarrassed on behalf of the waiter,' she objected. 'But thank you for your efforts.'

The waiter returned with a pamphlet and left hurriedly. 'So who would you like to see?' Draco asked. 'Celestina Warbeck's on tomorrow at the Albus Memorial Theatre, or The Weird Sisters in three nights at the Circe.'

Hermione shook her head. 'Something small, and tonight.'

'Tonight… Ah. The Percival Wulfrics are performing at The Angry Dragon in Fyne Alley at 7pm tonight.'

'Perfect,' Hermione smiled.

Draco raised his eyebrows. 'You've actually heard of them?'

'Nope!' She shrugged her shoulders. 'Let's discover them.'

It turned out to be the best evening Hermione had spent in a long time. They arrived at the pub at 6:30, and succeeded in finding a cosy table in a corner yet still in sight of the stage. Draco ordered drinks, and they chatter until the band came onstage. Neither Draco nor Hermione had any idea what they were in for, but the music was 'tasteful and lyrically interesting', as Hermione had put it after her fourth butterbeer. Draco had told her to quit talking like a critic and just admit it was balls. Hermione had thrown her napkin at him.

They danced to a fast number, jostled around by the other dancers but not caring. They danced to a slow number, and Hermione forgot all about the music as Draco's arms cradled her, his head resting on top of hers, his hands rubbing her back gently. He smelled like nothing on earth.

Similar thoughts were rushing through Draco's head. The impossibility of being here, a spur-of-the-moment decision resulting in something he never would have believed could happen – dancing with Hermione Granger and wishing it would never end.


End file.
